Carry on Winchester Girl
by SassyMcWinchester
Summary: A soul was picked up on the night of the deadly fire of Mary Winchester's death. Years later, the brothers are faced with a teenager who claims to be their sister. Everything matches when it comes to DNA, but how? Demons? Angel Joyride? This is the story of a Winchester girl who's imagined the life with older brothers that hunt. Just like her.
1. Chapter 1: Our Bloody Sister

**Lawrence, Kansas, 1983**

Every soul is familiar with the story of the Winchesters. One night in November, Mary Winchester was killed. On this night, fire erupted through the small farm home and engulfed Mary's body, almost engulfing the lives of her husband, John, and their sons, Sam and Dean. As fire erupted through the house, not every soul was put at peace in the fire, violent death or not. The lifespan of a soul begins in alarming ways. One soul's egg was burned in the fire along with Mary's body. Over the home of these innocent souls, a shooting star flew overhead, being washed out by the flashing lights of the fire trucks extinguishing the flames shrouding the Winchesters' home. Dean, leaning against his father and holding his baby brother, looked up to the sky as the shooting star retreated into the heavens. Tears streamed down his face as he held Sam close to him. He looked to where the star was going, thinking he could still see it, and made a hopeful wish.

"I wanted somebody to make it out alive…" he whispered into his brother.

At this point, the star was long gone, as well as Sam's ability to remain awake. Dean sat down against a car wheel and rested his head against the car itself. John continued to look at the house, as if in denial, slack-jawed, tears drying from his face. He could not rescue his wife. He could hardly rescue his boys. As his hands clenched into fists over and over again, he screamed at the sky, swearing death at the sky.

Toledo, Ohio, Present day

Dean bit into the beefy patty of red meat and ketchup, lettuce leaves falling down his chin as Led Zeppelin played at a low volume on the radio. Tomatoes crunched between his teeth as he chewed obnoxiously, causing Sam to cringe slightly while sitting next to him in the Impala.

"Dude, could you eat that a little slower? Or…neater?" Sam asked in disgust.

Shaking his head, Dean replied, "No way. I'm not sure you understand the fact that _this_," he shook the burger in front of Sam's face, "is heaven. All right? Shut up and eat your salad."

The crunching continued while Sam looked out the window, looking through the window of the restaurant, whose parking lot they were stationed in. Attempting to keep his mind off the unnatural chewing sounds occurring to his left, his eyes pin-pointed a newspaper stand next to the entrance to the restaurant. Looking over to his brother, to hopefully get him to get on focus, he found that Dean was incapable of giving any attention to him or anything beyond the range of the burger. Sighing, Sam left the car to retrieve a newspaper. When the paper was in his hands, the headliner made him blink in surprise. He walked back to the Impala and slapped the paper on the windshield.

"Dude. We've got a case. Here. Let's go." He tossed the paper through Dean's window and got back in the car on his side.

Dean groaned, sad that his journey with his burger must come to an end, tossing the food items back in the bag and tossing it into the back seat. He swallowed the chunk of meat that he was chewing, wiped his mouth on his jacket sleeve, and started the car. He pulled out and raced down the road with Sam's direction.

"All right Sam, what'd you get?" Dean asked, keeping his eyes on the road.

"A man's eyeballs exploded."

A short silence, then Dean looked at Sam. "Come again?"

"His eyes exploded. Found dead by his daughter in the bathroom, lying in a pool of his own blood." Sam explained.

"And you think this is us?"

"No break-ins, only the daughter's friends were there, they reported nothing fishy. So this is us." Sam crossed his arms.

A silence continued for several miles, with various sighs coming from Sam's mouth. Dean turned up the radio, hoping to ease the tension beginning to float around in the car. The Impala continued to race down a straight road, surrounded by corn, for miles, until there was a sign for a city limits. Dean slowed down to a slow 40 miles per hour and looked over at his brother.

"Come on, Sammy. What's on your mind?" he attempted to give a half-smile.

"Dad. And mom." He looked down to his lap and cracked his knuckles.

Dean didn't say anything on account of the fact that they were entering the town, according to Sam and the paper's article. Sam didn't help in finding a motel to crash at, he only loomed in his thoughts for the remainder of the ride. Once the motel was found, Sam stayed in the car while Dean took his false credit card in with him to pay for a room. As he walked through the front door, a little bell chimed, signaling his arrival to the management. A young woman sat up and greeted him, taking his card.

"Uh, yea, just for a week. Me and my brother, two queens." He scratched his nose while he looked around the motel lobby.

The woman smiled and handed Dean his card back. "Well, it looks like I'll have three guests checking in in one day!" she suddenly stopped, frowned, and examined Dean's face.

Dean blinked and shook his head, scrunching his face in confusion. "What?"

"You look familiar. Like I've seen your face somewhere before. I can't quite…"

"That's odd, I've never been around these parts before. Maybe it's just—''

"A girl did check in earlier. Do you have family?" she cut him off.

Swallowing, Dean shook his head. "No. Just…just me and my brother." He nodded and left the lobby, returning to Sam outside.

"Hey. What's up?" Sam asked, holding a bag over his shoulder.

"That chick at the front desk thought I looked familiar. Weird." He got his own bag from the trunk.

Sam looked to the far left of the parking lot to see a gray ford truck, a type of car a teenager would drive like a hand-me-down from their parents. It was scraped and banged up in areas, the windows were tinted and there seemed to be trash in the front seat, as he could see through a cracked open window. It was only a burger wrapper and a soft-drink, pink lemonade in a bottle. Sam shrugged and followed Dean to the motel. Sam stopped when he saw the flutter of curtains in his peripheral vision. He looked to a corner room of the building, only to see the still-swaying curtains and nothing beyond them.

**Motel Room 302**

The curtain was still swaying. Backing away from it slowly, she began to think of ways to not interact with them, to not draw attention to herself. She picked up her laptop from the table with one hand and turned a lamp on in the corner of the room. The start-up screen read "Hello Emily". She curled up on the couch and scrolled through various websites, taking notes on information she found. She heard rustling as the two men settled into their room. She didn't bother getting up, she just took her socks off and threw them near her boots, next to a zebra-print backpack. She wore a comfortable flannel shirt, black camisole underneath with dark navy jeans. The flannel was red and blue, the earrings matched, which were lightning bolts. She kept moving her hair out of her face as it kept falling into her vision. Eventually she just tied it back loosely.

"Twenty minutes in this motel and they aren't even talking." She mumbled to herself.

She closed the lid of the laptop and stood up, she pressed her ear against her door, just in case she would be able to hear them from three rooms over. Nothing, just the vibrating mattress, which gave her goose bumps when she used her own, every room had one. Finally one of them began to talk.

"Dean, the case? Should we go to the victim's house or are you gonna lounge in your bed all day?" they said, annoyed.

"In a minute, just let the quarter finish its course."

The bed stopped its vibrating once he said that, which made her laugh against the paneling of the door.

"Okay, let's go…" the one who was Dean groaned sadly.

Their door clicked open, which caused her to rush to her boots to put them and the socks back on. Their talking was heard until they tromped down the steps to the lobby. When she couldn't hear them anymore, her hand rested on the door handle.

_Should I follow them first?_

With that thought, she remembered the case.

"Oh, _FUCK._"

She rushed to her backpack and fished out her suit and fake badge. She threw the suit on and put her black heels on, putting her badge in her pocket and keeping her hair up, only making it tighter. She grabbed her keys and left her room, running down the hall and down the steps.

"They're here for the same reason I am, god damn it!" she yelled at herself as she ran out the lobby door and into her car.

She started the engine and pulled out into the road, steering hard and jerky as she went around corners. After several miles, she saw the home coming up on her right, the property surrounded by cars and people, not of police origin. She found a nearby alley and parked her car there. Fixing her appearance one last time, she smiled and started walking. As she neared the home, she looked around for the black Impala. It wasn't there yet, which would give her some time to scope out her case first. She rang the doorbell and stood up straight, creasing her mouth into a frown. A woman with a black pixie-cut answered the door, wearing all black with black jewelry. Obviously, the family had been returning from a funeral service.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"Yes, hi, I'm Agent Weathers, FBI. I'm here about the death that happened here." Emily showed the girl her 'badge'.

"Since when does the FBI care about a stroke?"

"I'm only here to ask a few routine questions, a type of therapy. You know what I mean?" she improvised.

A short silence was followed by "How old are you?"

"Twenty-three." She lied through her teeth.

The girl held the door open for Emily to step inside, also mumbling "Jesus, she looks seventeen…."

An internal scream, _I AM SEVENTEEN HOW COULD YOU LIE_, came from the back of Emily's skull as she walked into the home. There were mirrors on at least every wall. The girl led Emily to the back yard, where a large amount of people were talking to each other in small groups, all wearing funeral garb. Several people at a time looked at her with odd looks, but Emily kept walking. She walked up to a little girl, a blonde, and the pixie-cut who led her outside.

"Now what are these…questions?"

The girl was Donna Shoemaker, the daughter of the man who's eyes exploded. The little girl was Lily, who had the sleepover. Questions rallied out of Emily's mouth as she made notes. She only stopped asking questions when Lily mentioned the game at the sleepover.

"What game?" she asked Lily.

"Bloody Mary! My friends made me say her name three times in front of the bathroom mirror! This is my fault!"

Emily heard the sound of a gas-guzzling engine pull in front of the house. Following the stop of the engine were two door slams. Emily had to think quickly if she didn't want to be noticed.

"May I see the location of death?" she asked Donna.

Donna nodded and led Emily back into the house and up the stairs. The bathroom was down the hall and to the right. After Donna proceeded to answer the door a second time, Emily took a chance and peered through the railing of the stairs. The men from the motel were standing in the living room. They were wearing their dirty jackets and jeans, no sign of professionalism at all. She rolled her eyes as Donna led them out into the yard. Acting quickly, Emily ran into the bathroom, ignoring the blood that stained the floor tiles. She looked into the mirror and saw no signs of scratching or struggle. She took a picture on her phone of the mirror, along with several of the blood stains on the floor. She scuffed the floor with her heel, the blood was really stained on there. She heard footsteps, there was no way out except for the door and a locked window. She took her chances with the window. Using her heels as extra support to cram the lock open, she broke the heel bit in the process. The talking was getting closer, along with the footsteps. She pried the window open enough for her to shimmy out. Because she was crawling out head first, without thinking, she had to use her ab and leg muscles to prevent her from falling head first. She managed to grab hold of a shingle that stuck out from the house and swung herself down, slamming her back against the house in result. She also twisted her shoulder in the process, causing her arm to have to hold more weight than the other. She kicked her heel off, the other being dropped after the window opened, and prepared to drop to the ground.

"Oh god, why's the window open?" she heard the tall one say.

The window closed, and she dropped to the ground to get her information back to the car.

**The Library**

"Sam, would you stop playing with that piece of shoe?" Dean asked with a book in his hands.

Sam was holding the broken heel bit found in the Shoemakers' bathroom. He kept turning it in his hands to examine it, when he should have been holding the same research Dean was holding. After their chat with Donna, Lily, and her friend, Dean offered to him to sneak up to the bathroom. Not only was the window open, but there was a piece of shoe lying on the floor next to it. Dean snapped his fingers in front of Sam's face.

"Come on. This Bloody Mary stuff won't research itself." Dean tossed a book in front of Sam.

Sam put the shoe bit in his pocket and picked up the book.

"Hey Dean."

"Yea?"

"I think someone was at the case before us."

Dean looked up from the book. "You serious?"

Sam nodded.

"Well, how do you know?"

"There was blood from the site on the heel bit. And a high heel shoe was in the lawn as we were leaving." Sam felt the urge to take the shoe bit from his pocket.

"There were a lot of women at the house. Probably a coincidence."

Sam tried to open the book to read, but the situation kept itching at him. He took a look around the library. He only saw a few people, one had her ipod in and was sitting at a laptop, chewing gum. The rest were browsing books. He sighed and read a couple pages. Bloody Mary was known for scratching the eyes out of anyone who said her name three times. Shoemaker had showed up in front of the mirror after Lily said it, and his eyes had been torn out. The fact that children hadn't been affected by this game anywhere else was confusing to him. He kept rerunning the scene in his head as he tried to read.

"The gray truck from the motel…" he mumbled.

"The what now?" Dean asked, now annoyed with Sam's interruptions.

"It was parked in an alley that was close to the house." Sam continued.

"So what?"

Sam bit his tongue and dismissed the subject. He continued to read until he found an image of a mirror, crudely drawn by the book's author. He shook Dean's arm and showed him the image.

"This was the area where Mary was murdered. Maybe something involving these mirrors is a connection."

Dean looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. "You dummy, haven't you heard the legend? Of course the mirrors are connected!" he swatted the book away.

Sam sighed and massaged his forehead. Dean rolled his eyes and leaned forward, trying to gain eye contact with him. "Hey. What's goin' on with you, Sam?"

Sam shook his head. "Nothin', Dean."

The girl with the laptop closed it and got up. She gave Dean a quick look and walked to another section of the library. Dean smacked Sam with a book, causing Sam to blink and smack Dean back. They proceeded with a slap fight, Dean shielding himself with a book from their large stack of them. Sam hid under the table.

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

As Sam attempted to get out from under the table, he bumped his head and grunted, Dean's smile spreading across his face.

"You think that's funny?" Sam smiled at his brother.

Sam's smile was interrupted by the clicking of computer keys. He looked across the library near the entrance, to see the girl with the laptop and the flannel shirt. He gestured at Dean. He turned around in his chair as the girl snapped a picture of their Impala on her phone. She closed her laptop again and swiftly left through the doors.

"Sam, did she just snap a photo of Baby?"

"Yea." Sam swallowed.

Dean bolted from his chair and ran toward the doors. Sam was dodging bookshelves and chairs and watched his brother go out the door first. Sam followed him and saw the gray truck pull out of the parking lot just as he burst through the doors.

"She's heading for the motel, Sam!" Dean shouted, getting into the Impala.

Sam ran to the car door and slid in his side. Dean backed up in the lot and sped out of the lot. Tires screeching around corners, they kept in pursuit of the gray car back to the motel.

"Dean, we can't ambush her. I have a different idea." Sam said while looking at the darkening sky.

**Motel**

Emily tossed her laptop on the couch, careful to not break it. She kept part of the curtain open so she could see when the two of them would return. No sign of the Impala yet, so she took charge and left her room. Their room was only two down the hall from her. She took a bobby pin from her pocket and began fiddling with their lock. When the lock finally clicked, she snuck into the room, closing the door behind her. On one bed was a duffel bag and a pistol, a laptop was on the other. She crept around, looking inside the bag to see guns and knives. A cross or two were on the bottom of the bag, and a vile of salt was in there. A gun cocked behind her head. Her heart stopped for a second before it beat rapidly again.

"Listen there, sweetheart. You got two seconds to show your face and tell me what's goin' on here."

Emily, by natural reaction, slowly raised her hands and turned around to face her attacker. He was taller than her, green denim jacket and jeans. It was one of the men from the Impala, and from the case. He was glaring at her with the gun pointed to her forehead now. His glare faltered when she was looking into his deep, green eyes. A surprised look flashed through his eyes but it faded quickly, resuming his threatening glare into her.

"Tell me who you are." He asked her again.

"Well, I suppose I could tell you." She smiled.

His glare deepened. With a swift punch to the shoulder, she was able to grab and twist his elbow, disarming him of the gun. She swept her foot under his while he was in shock. A force came from behind her when he hit the floor, careening her into the wall, head bouncing off the drywall. When she hit the ground, a tall man attempted to stomp on her, or at least to press his foot into her to keep her still. She dodged and rolled across the room until she hit another wall. Her foot caught with a table as she tried to run to the bedside table for the lamp. She tripped and bounced off the corner of the bed, once again on the ground. She couldn't get up this time, for a giant hand grabbed the front of her camisole, thrusting her upward and onto the wall. Struggling was useless, his grip was too strong. So strong in fact, she had some difficulties breathing. The other man stood up.

"I told you, and now I'm asking again! Who are you?!" he pointed his gun at her, past the taller man.

"Dean, she's a teenager. Put your gun away."

"Like hell! She's been snooping around our stuff like a rodent!" he shouted.

"I prefer cat, thanks." She chimed in.

"Shut up." The taller one growled.

She shrugged.

"Now then, what's your name?" the tall one asked.

"Emily."

"Was that so hard? I'm Sam. This is Dean." He was trying to be calm, reasoning.

"A first name isn't enough, kid." He still refused to holster his gun.

She sighed. "I'm a hunter. Emily Winchester."

Sam and Dean's eyes widened. Sam's grip tightened on her and she winced. Dean definitely didn't feel like holstering the gun now. Sam pursed his lips, a crazy look in his eyes.

"_Winchester?_" he asked.

"Yea. What about it?" the look of pain was still on her face.

Sam lowered her and dragged her out their door. She started screaming and Sam lifted her, put his hand over her mouth, and glared very threateningly.

"Where's your room?" Dean asked aggressively.

Emily mumbled '302' through Sam's hand. Dean kicked the door in and gestured for Sam to follow. She was being half-drug, half-carried to her room which, from the sound of it, Dean was now destroying. She began to try to pry Sam's hand off her mouth when she was flung into her own wall. Dean ripped the phone cord from the wall and tied her hands up. Sam went directly to the laptop she left on the couch. Dean walked over to her and felt her pockets and shoes, finding a knife in her rear pocket. The hope left her face, not just because of her means of escape being stolen, but because she remembered she didn't lock her laptop before she attempted her snooping. Sam began searching her files while Dean looked through her backpack. A look of dismay went across his face as he looked through her various ID cards and credit cards.

"She's a hunter all right." Dean confirmed, tossing the cards away from him.

"Why you so depressed about that?" Emily challenged.

"Shut it, we're snooping through _your _stuff now." Dean challenged back.

She rolled her eyes and watched them root through her personal information. She looked at Sam, who seemed to be having a casual time going through her laptop.

"Dean. This is the one from the case."

"You're working our case?" Dean looked at her again.

"More like you're working my case. I got in this morning, you came after me." She scowled at him.

Sam covered his mouth with one hand as he kept scrolling. His eyes lit up when he got to, she assumed, her folder password.

"Bet you can't crack it." She teased.

She heard the 'ding' as the folder allowed Sam into it. She frowned and slumped on the floor in defeat. Any personal information about her was in that folder.

"Dean, she's the real deal. Emily Winchester, born December 26th, 1996. She even looks it. Seventeen." He looked up from the screen. "Why do you have personal info about yourself on your laptop?"

"In case my memory fails. Amnesia. It's happened once on my first mission, I was ten. I had no idea, where I was or who I was. I lost it, but I found my information thanks to a stranger in the woods."

They both looked at her strangely. "And you believed him? A stranger in the woods?" Dean shook his head with disappointment. "Kids."

"It all checked out. Police even printed me. It was legit."

Sam closed the lid. "You're…a Winchester."

"Yes…again, so what?"

They looked at each other. Sam spoke. "I'm Sam Winchester. This is my older brother, Dean Winchester." He spoke slowly.

Her eyebrows furrowed. Dean let her stand and they walked to a mirror. They both looked in it at the same time. The resemblance was uncanny. Same face, same green eyes. Same color hair, hers being a little lighter shade of brown than Dean's. The only difference was that she had freckles and they didn't. She had full lips, just like Sam's. Same broad shoulders as both of them. They still kept her hands tied up, but sat her down on the couch.

"Sam. A minute alone please?" he asked his brother.

They both stood up from the couch and proceeded to her bedroom. Dean made a noise of awe when he saw the vibrating bed. "Man, these are everywhere…"

Sam gave him a look. "Dude, focus."

"Right. Mystery girl saying she's a Winchester. Creepy."

"More like impossible. Mom was dead and we would have noticed a younger sibling in our lives at the point she could have been…made."

"You think it's a monster deal?" Dean contemplated.

"I'm thinkin' the same monster that killed mom." Sam looked in at her while she was trying to lick the tip of her nose.

He looked back at Dean, seeing he was trying to do the same thing. Sam's face read the loss of hope in his brother, as his family history was collapsing in on him. Dean looked at Sam and stopped.

"I wanted to try it…" he mumbled.

"If you think I'm some type of monster spawn, go ahead and test me. Gimme your best shot. I'm allergic to nickel though, it's pesky." She remarked from the other room.

Sam and Dean looked at each other. Dean took his knife from his pocket and took it to Emily. She looked up at him, clearly not giving a shit at the moment whether she got cut or not. Her face was bloody anyway, and her hair was straggly. Her laptop and hotel room were just ramsacked, so whether she got tested or not was unimportant at this point. He cut her forearm, she winced, but she watched the blood trickle out and eventually raised an eyebrow. He splashed salt on her next. With no reaction, he proceeded to holy water. She gave a smile of annoyance as the water fell down her face. Her eyes were squeezed shut as she shook her face off.

"Sam," Dean said with a kind of relief, "she's the real deal."

Sam walked in and stopped next to Dean, and in front of her.

"Does this mean you're…my brothers?" she was trying not to get sentimental.

"I guess so." Sam nodded, looking at Dean, who also nodded.

Dean cut the cord around her wrists and let her stretch. The mood in the air was, obviously, awkward. No hugs, just awkward smiles between them.

"Oh. Uh. We kinda…trashed your car." Dean smiled.

Emily's jaw dropped and her face filled with dismay. "My car?!"

They both shrugged. She moped and slumped on the couch. Dean kept clearing his throat until Sam, annoyed, broke the silence.

"If you're our sister, there are some things you should know."

They sat down next to her and explained the night their mother was killed. Dean running with Sam out of the nursery, their dad not being able to save her. The house on fire, and eventually, their life. How they became hunters. Emily followed along with the story, eyes sad from start to finish, stomach also growling and ruining the somewhat tender moment they were having. Dean's also growled, and Sam looked at him with a bitchy look in his eyes.

"What? I'm hungry too."

"Great role model, Dean. Great job." Sam looked to her again. "You follow?"

She nodded. "But…if your mom is dead…how am I here?"

"We have no idea." Dean smiled and patted her knee. "But let's cut the mushy crap. You have information we need to finish this case. We're gonna need that."

"Dean, I think you're missing the point here. We just met our _sister_, and you're worried on this case?" Sam stood and narrowed his eyes.

"The faster we gank this thing, the faster Catwoman can meet her dad." He stood up too.

With the name 'Catwoman', Emily smiled wide. She stood up with them and went back to their room to discuss information, leaving the tattered room behind.

**The Impala, The next day**

"This. Car. Rocks!" Emily exclaimed upon getting in.

"See? Sam? It rocks. She is our sister." Dean smiled as he sat in the driver's seat.

Sam rolled his eyes and sat in the passenger seat. Emily took out a notebook and began reading them directions to the home of the friend from the funeral party. Sam had a missed call, from her. The voicemail was static, so their first priority was to get to her house for information. Emily looked out the window for some of the ride. It was only the beginning of the average school day, so it was odd that the girl would be out of school at this time of day. She smiled to herself, she never learned that girl's name. She looked too blonde to be trusted…not that all blondes were trusted, but she would probably ruin the investigation.

"Hey. You alive back there?" she heard Dean ask.

She nodded at his eyes in the rearview mirror, and he nodded back. "You didn't sleep, did you?"

She shook her head. "I wanted to research some more…"

"See? Dean? She likes research. She is our sister." Sam smirked.

Emily laughed as Dean slapped his arm. When they approached the home, she sat on the edge of her seat. Dean and Sam got out first and she followed them. Dean turned around to look at her.

"I don't care how trained you are, if there's trouble, you're out and you let us handle this."

Slightly insulted, she nodded and let him have a big brother moment.

"There's a car in the driveway. Hers?" Sam asked.

Dean tugged on Sam's sleeve. When Sam looked over at him, he was pointing to the side of the house. Emily was attempting to climb up what must have been to the bedroom window. Via, of course, the side of the house.

"What are you doing?!" Dean whisper-shouted.

Emily knocked at the window, a scream from another girl followed it. She called down to them "Yea, she's in there."

Dean looked at Sam with bugged out eyes. "She's insane."

Sam nodded. "Yea."

When Emily was let into the bedroom, a girl was curled up and sobbing, an absolute wreck. Sam and Dean came in the boring way: through the front door. Sam and Dean gave her a look, one that read they could handle this. She stood back and let them handle the situation. Sam began taking mirrors down and covering them up with sheets. She tried to help, but Dean told her to stay put. She pouted. Sam missed the mirror in the bathroom, so she wandered in. She removed the mirror, but stopped placing it on the ground when she saw an inscription on the back.

"Hey guys, I think I found something." She said, hoping they would walk in.

"What's up?" Asked Dean when he walked in.

There was a name written on the back of the mirror. As Emily and Dean inspected it, Sam uncovered the truth. The blonde girl's boyfriend had told her to stay with him, or else he'd kill himself. She left because of an emotional matter, and he did it. She felt incredibly guilty. Donna had said "Bloody Mary" in the mirror while she was in the room with her, and now Bloody Mary was after her. Sam stood there, putting pieces of the puzzle together in his head.

"Mary was murdered and left behind guilt. So now, she kills the people for the guilt they keep in their minds. Her mirror must be here, in town." He concluded.

"Way ahead of you, Sam." She pulled out her phone.

Dean looked at Sam. "You didn't check her phone?"

Sam gave Dean a look of disgust. Dean put his hands up in defeat as she showed them her phone. There was a location and a map, along with a picture of the mirror. Sam nodded and instructed the other girl to stay put and not to look in any reflections. She nodded and they made their way back out of the house the boring way, the front door.

**Antique store, 11:00 pm**

Sam was fiddling with the locked door in the back of a local antique store. Emily kept watch behind Dean, who had his gun out and ready to fire. The lock clicked and they were in. Sam led the way, putting his lock-pick away and un-holstering his gun. There were mirrors everywhere. Emily closed the door and walked in behind them, stopping when she too saw the array of mirrors.

"Shit." She spoke first.

"Sam, we have to destroy that mirror." Dean continued.

"All right, start breaking mirrors." Sam grabbed a piece of metal that was just lying in the storehouse.

"YES. Let's fuck shit up." She grabbed a blunt object.

Dean gave Sam an approving look. Sam didn't chuckle, he only responded with a smash of glass. After only five minutes, there were police sirens blaring down the street.

"An alarm?" Dean woed.

"Go Dean, me and Emily can handle this!"

Dean left out the door and holstered the gun. After the door slammed, Sam lowered his object. Emily broke another mirror when she saw a reflection graze across another mirror in her peripheral vision. She turned and saw Sam standing in front of a mirror, his lips moving.

"Sam?" she lowered her object as well.

She caught the name for after his third time saying it. The reflection moved quickly to the front mirror, the one Sam was standing in front of.

"Sam?!" she ran at him, but a mirror shattered in her way. She was forced to stop.

Mary took on a different form. She became taller and her black hair changed to curly and blonde. Flames burst and swarmed all around her and she began to scream."

"WHY DIDN'T YOU WARN ME, SAM?! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! YOU KILLED ME, SAM! YOU MADE ME BURN!"

"Jessica, no…" Sam whispered.

The girl, apparently Jessica, stepped out of the mirror, making Sam's eyes bleed.

"Sam!" she desperately searched for 'Jessica's' mirror.

She found a different mirror. With it, she ran to Sam. But before she could hold up the mirror to 'Jessica', she changed form again. This time, a boy with black hair and green eyes. She froze as the blood trickled from her eyes. Clutching the mirror tightly with both hands, she screamed and showed him the mirror. When the reflection caught, Mary resorted back to her original form. Sam and Emily were coughing, frozen, unable to move along with Mary. The door slammed as Dean ran in.

_"You didn't do your job. You killed me. Left me for dead." _ The voice ran through her head, also Jessica's running through Sam's.

All of a sudden Dean flew by with a crowbar, shouting at the top of his lungs. Glass shattered behind her and Sam, which ceased the blood flow. Mary's form began to crack, and she crumbled to dust before them. Emily passed out and fell on the floor, and dropped the mirror that helped bring the end to Mary. Sam shook his head and sat up, wiping the blood off his face. Dean threw the crowbar away from him, leaving the frame from Mary's original mirror behind. He rushed to Sam first, who just looked around him at all the shattered glass and the heap of his sister next to him.

"Sam, what the hell happened?!" Dean shouted.

Sam was very calm. "I summoned Mary."

Dean sighed and helped Sam up off the floor. They both looked down at Emily, then back at each other.

"We'll ask questions later." Dean told Sam.

"How much later?" Sam picked her up and wiped the blood from her face.

They walked out, police gone from the premises, Dean having shooed them off with talking.

"Obviously not soon, Sam. But what about you? Was that to see Jess?" Dean opened the back door to the Impala.

"…Yea." Sam placed her on the back seat.

"What aren't you tellin' me, Sam?" Dean looked at his brother.

Sam shook his head. "I could have warned her. That's all."

Dean looked back to Emily. "And you could've warned her before you summoned that thing."

Sam nodded as dean started the engine and drove back to the motel.


	2. Chapter 2: Asylum Party

**Impala, Early Morning**

The motel was far behind them and the car sat in the presence of a roadside diner. Sam sat in the car while Dean went to get some coffee and one hot chocolate for Emily, who was still passed out in the back seat. Sam continued to look back at her, she looked exhausted. Through that rough exterior she had while she was awake, it was completely taken away while she slept. There were bags under her eyes, her hair was messy and there were bruises on her hands and face. He didn't notice that they were there before, when they first met.

"You must be one of us." He whispered, looking at her turn over.

He thought back to the incident with the mirrors. She had dashed forward on impulse, not thinking about it before she acted. She's still only a child. The kind of emotional toll seeing things like their guilts would cause her to just pass out. Especially considering the amount of sleep she didn't get that night in the motel, at their meeting. It's only been a day, and Sam felt like he was looking at a true Winchester.

"Sammy?" Dean was tapping on the window with the beverages in a carrier.

Sam unlocked the door and let him in. Dean handed him a coffee, then looked back at Emily, who was beginning to stir.

"You alive?" Sam asked.

Sitting up sloppily, she looked around the car and tried to get her bearings. She clasped the seat so she could balance, especially with all the hair in her face. She blinked.

"I smell chocolate." She declared, suddenly awake.

The brothers looked at each other. Dean handed her back the hot chocolate, which was extremely hot and was steaming through the straw hole.

"Did you get me the black, fancy coffee sipping straw?" she asked, comfortably warming her hands with the Styrofoam container.

Dean handed her back one. "I had a feeling you might want it."

"Thanks." She smiled and tiredly took the straw.

They all sipped their beverages in silence, Dean looking out the windshield and Sam gazing out his window. Emily sipped her chocolate with her eyes closed, tapping a tune on her cup. She attempted to stretch her legs, but they ran into her backpack. Looking at the familiar zebra print, she smiled. Setting the cup into the side cup holder, she unzipped her bag and went through it. Everything was in there; her wallet, laptop, multiple pairs of clothing which included her suit, cell charger, and at the very bottom, a pink blankie. She hoped to God that they didn't see that when they went through her things. She fished her phone from her pocket and threw it in the backpack, then re-zipped everything back up. She picked up her hot chocolate and resumed drinking. Finally, Dean started the engine and left the roadside diner. They continued to sip in silence until Dean suddenly broke it.

"All right, time to pow-wow." he looked back into the mirror again.

"Dean." Sam warned.

"We're all mature here. She can tell us what's up." Dean argued back.

She swallowed a large gulp of hot chocolate. "You're talking about Grant, aren't you?"

Sam glanced back in the mirror. "Grant?"

She nodded. "He was a hunter. And a friend of mine."

Dean put his eyes back on the road, face serious. "Close friend?"

She looked at her cup. "You could say that…"

Sam was still looking back in the mirror. "Is that who you saw in Bloody Mary?"

She nodded. Seeing that Sam nodded too, she waited for Dean to say something. He didn't, he was thinking about other things.

"That's enough. If it's incredibly emotional, we don't have to wear you out anymore. I'll get you and Sam's stories another time. Forget I asked."

The Impala continued to whizz down the road through the rest of the early morning. Emily watched Sam fall asleep in the passenger seat, clearly exhausted. It was about four in the morning, the sun was not yet rising, when Dean looked back at her again. She made eye-contact with him and he smirked.

"So how was your first case with the Winchester boys?" he asked.

"Honestly? It was fucking interesting." she nodded.

There was a moment of hesitation before he spoke again. "You're really interested in what Sam's all about right now."

She nodded.

So Dean told her the story about how Sam ran away to go to college. He met a girl named Jessica who was killed after their first case together, and, it was on the anniversary of their mother's death. Emily listened while Dean talked about how devastated he's been, he suspected Sam's been having nightmares. This was who Emily saw when Bloody Mary transformed when Sam looked at her. It didn't answer the question to why Sam saw her. What was he feeling guilt about?

"He told me that he could have warned her. I don't know what that's supposed to mean, but I don't like it." He finished.

Sam stirred in his seat, but he didn't wake up yet. Emily sighed and tried to process all she went through the past day.

"I'm sorry, Dean." Was all she could come up with.

"Why?"

"Your life sucked at the sound of it. Mom's dead, your dad ran out a lot on you guys, and Sam lost his girlfriend. I feel bad." Her sad eyes met Dean's serious ones through the mirror again.

"It ain't so bad. You're a hunter yourself, you know the life."

She closed her eyes as her mind roared at her for sleep. _Not really, Dean…_

The last thing she heard from Dean was "We'll get to a motel soon." before she dozed off.

**Motel, Somewhere USA**

Emily was shaken awake with the sound of Sam's voice.

"AH no GanONdorF…" she sputtered, putting emphasis on different letters.

She blinked at Sam, who was giving her a look of confusion. "Uh."

"Nothing. Never mind." She dismissed her sleep babble.

She hopped out of the car, which was sitting in a motel parking lot. Dean was holding his bag and hers, holding it up for her to see. She grabbed it from him and grunted her sleep away. She also noticed that there were suits in Sam's bag, which was clearly open, along with fake IDs. She smiled.

_I gave them an idea. _She smirked and walked happily behind them through the front doors of the motel.

When Dean reached the counter, a woman was there to give them a room. Instinctively, Dean said two Queens. Luckily for Emily's standing behind Sam, the tallest being in the building, the woman did not catch her presence. Only when Dean turned around did he notice his mistake.

"Dammit." He rolled his eyes.

She shrugged. She offered to get her own room, but the boys declined.

"Not if we get a case, we'll forget about you in the other room." Dean admitted.

The fact that he wasn't lying was the scary part. They all walked to their room in silence, Sam looking at the random paintings on the walls. When they got to their room, Dean made a bee-line for the bedroom, Sam turning himself around from going in there. He grabbed Emily by the shoulder and escorted her right back out.

"Give him alone time. Let's get breakfast."

She didn't say anything when Sam closed their door and kept walking. He continued to escort her out of the motel until he stopped.

"I wasn't asleep when Dean told you." He remarked out of the blue.

Her eyes grew sad and she bit her lip. "I'm sorry, Dean just told me and I WAS curious, but I should have poked you to see if you were awake but I didn't and I'm a horrible human being…" she continued on her teenage worry-rant.

Her facial expressions were equivalent to a cartoon character, eyes growing incredibly when sad and hand gestures flailing around her to try to prove how sorry she was.

"What? No, it's okay. I just wanted to get your...side of the story." he walked to the car.

"About Grant you mean?" she followed him.

"Yea. Just, to know, what we're getting into." he started the engine.

She got in and closed the passenger seat, which was extremely comfortable.

"Grant and I were in the same colony. Like, hunting families. We called them our colony. Anyway, I was twelve when I joined him in his colony. He was thirteen, I remember he told me I was a gross girl on my first day."

They cruised down the street, Sam listening intently.

She continued. "We got to be really close. When I turned fifteen, Grant asked me out on a date. We went to the arcade and got pizza, I got pepperoni and he got sausage with extra cheese. He sucked at Tetris."

Sam let out a chuckle. They saw a little diner and pulled in, Sam parking close to the door.

As they were getting out, she kept going. "Then he proposed that we started our own team together, considering how much of a leader he was and how talented he was. He was so skilled with his arsenal, it was really hot."

Sam ordered breakfast to go; she asked for pancakes and sausage, in which he happily ordered as well. She described what Grant looked like while they waited for their food. Tall, black hair that was messy and short, and he had a cocky grin that brought out his green eyes. He wore a denim jacket all the time with references on T-shirts underneath it. His jeans were always ripped and his boots were scuffed up. The picture was coming into perspective in Sam's head when the boxed order came to the counter.

"One day," she started again as they left the diner, "we were tracking a wendigo, which had slaughtered seven people in the area already."

They both got into the car. "We were coming up with a plan, to dismember the thing with silver. Grant was supposed to remain in the circle while I was the bait to trap it."

"How would you trap a Wendigo?" Sam interrupted.

"Take it outside of its territory. If it doesn't know the area, it can't hunt as well and gets confused." she explained.

Sam nodded. "Alright. Go on."

"Anyway, I had three checkpoints. One I would walk to, sprint to, then hop on the motorcycle outside the territory and just keep going. It kept following me outside the territory until I reached the Anasazi circle." As she went on, she helped her description with hand motions. "Grant...wasn't in the circle…" her eyebrows creased together, trying to grasp the image. "Only I had brought my motorcycle, which was actually his, he stole it, but anyway, he wasn't there. I had to improvise and loop around the circle, which was difficult because the mother fucker was gaining on me. I could literally feel the claws swipe at me, I was trying not to panic. As a plan B, I pulled my lighter out. The circle had branching designs I added with gasoline, just in case I _needed_ a plan B. I threw the lighter on the ground just as I saw him: Grant with a hunting rifle, right in front of my path. I swerved and took a roll, the cycle smashing my legs as it rolled with me. Grant shot, but he hesitated because he watched me fall. He _hesitated_...just enough...for the Wendigo to swipe him…" she gulped.

"Emily-" Sam tried to interrupt.

"The gun was flung out of his hands and he…he staggered back. I couldn't stand up, so I had to try to crawl over to him. He was bleeding and made a run for the circle, why didn't he stay in the fucking circle…"

Knowing that Sam could no longer attempt to stop her, he guiltily let her finish her story, even though they were back in the motel lot.

"There was so much blood, Sam…" her eyes were wide.

"You can do it, finish your story." He looked through the windshield up at their room.

"He was grabbed by the ankle and was thrown farther away from the circle…and farther away from me…he looked up and his eyes filled with hope, because we locked our stares. I tried so hard…I really did… I kept trying to crawl at him. The Wendigo was taunting us, it moved at a fucking snail's pace. I was finally able to take his hand, there was so much blood…all over his hands…his chest was…just ripped. I cried, but it was the type of crying that you don't notice until the snot builds up in your nose enough to keep you from breathing. He let go of his chest and whipped the axe out…the silver axe…he stood up and ran. Ran right at it. The bravado he had left his face when the claws dismembered his head…and his body…just fell over…like a feather…"

Sam looked at her for a long time while the tears began to drip from her face. It was the type of crying that you don't notice until the snot builds up in your nose enough to keep you from breathing. She saw Sam looking at her and she quickly wiped her face. Sniffing one last time, she smiled at him.

"At least he went down swingin'."

Sam looked at her curiously as she took the breakfast into the motel, using the tough shell she created so well.

**Motel, Night**

"And yer tellin' me this girl, our sister, survived a Wendigo attack?" Dean asked, sitting on his bed.

"That's what she told me." Sam nodded.

"How'd she get away?" Dean looked to the other side of the room; Emily was asleep on the sofa.

"Grant sent a distress signal when he went off the plan. Her colony arrived after the beheading." Sam explained.

Dean exhaled a lot of air at one time. "Wow."

Sam nodded. The clock read "11:45", he let out a yawn. As Dean was turning the light off, there was a faint stir from the living room. He looked in to see her, lying on the couch very awkwardly, almost upside down. He smiled a little and covered up, the cotton fabric creating a cesspool of warmth all around him. He dozed off into sleep after thinking about almost nothing.

A vibration was going off faintly outside of Dean's unconscious brain. His eyes popped open, he was only asleep for two hours. The vibrating wasn't coming from the mattress, but from the bag next to his bed. He reached in it and grabbed his phone, the vibration stopping once he read that a message had been sent to him. He checked the message: a set of numbers were on the screen. Coordinates.

He shook Sam. "Hey, rise and shine."

He groaned. "What's up…?" he rubbed his eyes.

Dean tossed him the phone as he walked to the sofa. "Coordinates, from Dad."

He shook Emily too. "Up and at 'em."

She sprung up like a daisy after winter time snow. "DEAN DON'T EAT THE CARROT."

Dean opened his mouth to retaliate, but he didn't even bother asking. He'd only known his sister for three days and he already knew it was better to not ask about what goes on in her noggin.

Sam was already dressed. "From Dad? Where do they go?"

Dean reached in his bag and pulled out a small journal, it was new to Emily. It was leather bound with a strap keeping it closed. Dean whipped it open and started going through the pages.

"Rockford, Illinois. There's an asylum there. We gotta go." He looked at Sam first.

Emily got whatever she had unpacked into her bag again and was ready to go. She looked at Sam, who had a very serious look in his eyes.

"And these coordinates were from dad?" she hesitated to ask.

They both looked at her. Dean didn't answer, he only got his things together and left the room. She looked to Sam for guidance, but provided her with none. He left the room as well, only not in such a hurry anymore. Taking one last look around the room, she sighed and closed the door behind her as she made her way down to the Impala with her brothers.

**Rockford, Illinois**

"According to the news reports," Sam started, "Officer Kelly shot his wife after a sweep down at the old asylum. Apparently some kids were sneaking around in there."

They were all still in the Impala, only this time, all in suits and on their way to a pub. Dean was extremely serious, starting right after he received the message from dad. As she listened to Sam, she used her phone as a mirror to check her appearance. She puckered her lips and turned her head from side to side to check for any dirt or smudges. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, nice and clean, while Dean went with the 'bad cop' approach. Sam was elegantly professional, his tie tighter and shoes cleaner. It was obvious that they would make horrible FBI agents when it came to the information department, but they'd be damn good when it came to intimidation. As she batted her eyes one last time, the thought struck her that she was attending a legitimate mission sent by her dad.

_My dad. _ She shuddered a little, thinking that a guardian that was out in no man's land was sending her orders. Or at least a location, which is orders enough. Her dad probably didn't even know she was alive. She shrugged it off as Dean pulled in front of the pub they were looking for.

"Alright, now how do you do this?" he turned to look back at her.

"You ask him questions about the incident, try to be subtle and not too overbearing." She furrowed her brows. She knew this wouldn't turn out right.

Dean nodded in understanding and got out, Sam following. She came out and smoothened her clothing, watching as Dean plowed through the front door.

"Oh god." She whispered to herself.

Dean walked back to the bar area, where Officer Gunderson was sitting, and sat next to him on a stool. As Emily walked through the front doors, she could intensely notice that the officer was uncomfortable, and she thought Sam could tell too.

"Hi, I'm with the Chicago Tribune, here to ask you some questions about the incident that happened with Officer Kelly." He began abruptly.

The officer looked up from his beer and gave him a stern look. "If you want information, don't be so rude about it. And besides, I'm not talking about it."

"Listen, I know this is very troubling for you, but I need to do my job so if you could just—''

Sam grabbed him and yanked him off the stool. "Dean. Go sit outside."

"What?" Dean questioned.

"Outside." Emily grabbed him by his collar and pulled on him.

Dean swore at her and kept looking angrily at Sam all the way out. Considering Emily was only as tall as his chest, her methods of escort were highly comical. Once they reached outside and the doors were firmly shut, she hit him in the arm.

"What did I do?!" he complained.

"You came on waaaaaaay too strong. You made him uncomfortable instantaneously, you didn't even think to smile first."

"So you had to _drag me by my collar?_" he gave her an unamused look.

She smiled and nodded. After a few minutes of moping, Sam came out and gave a thumbs up.

"What'd he say?" Dean stood up from leaning against the Impala.

"First of all, I apologized for your behavior." Dean rolled his eyes. "But all in all, he said that Kelly was pretty straight-laced, he'd never commit murder. Or suicide. Happy guy, happy wife, happy life."

Emily got in the Impala. "Does this mean we get to visit an asylum?"

"This means we get to visit an asylum." Sam confirmed.

Her eyes lit up and she bounced up and down on the seats, later being scolded by Dean for doing so.

**Rockford Asylum, Mid-Afternoon**

Outside, the condition of the asylum looked like the average abandoned building. There was graffiti covering the walls, the plants around the entrance dead and drooping. Sam, Dean, and Emily were equipped with flashlights, Emily being the only one excited about entering an asylum. Sam, as usual, looked at Dean with serious concern. They had known Emily for so little time, but she seemed too eccentric to be considered mentally sane. Perhaps she belonged here, but that was rude for a brother to think.

"Why you so amped about going in this place?" Dean asked, breaking the new lock and chains on the set of doors.

"I think if I go in, they might not let me back out." she said with a smile on her face.

"Ah." replied Dean as he pushed the doors open.

Emily, of course, walked in first, turning on her flashlight and scoping the main room. Overall, the asylum was creepy. There was red graffiti, again, on the walls and cobwebs dangling from the crevices of the ceiling. Dean and Sam pulled out their flashlights as well, taking a more cautious approach when scoping out with their light sources. Of the few doors, only one was able to be touched without Emily having to touch a spider or its web. The sign, after blowing the dust away, read 'South Wing'. She peeked through the crack of the door, just seeing a long hallway. Dean took the door and pried it open completely, this is a different side of her he's seen so far. She seemed too girly, she didn't want to get her hands dirty on dust and cobwebs. Was she scared?

"Dean, there's something in dad's journal about this." Sam told him, walking past them and into the hallway.

"Yea, shoot." Dean looked around the floor with his flashlight.

"Apparently, in 1972, three teenagers came into the asylum for a night. Only one of them lived." Sam explained.

"Spooky." Dean made a face of unamusement.

Emily was journeying down through the hallway until she stepped on a paper. Looking down, it was a torn, dusty sheet of paper that seemed to be an approval sheet for experiment supplies. She picked it up.

"Hey, guys," she called down to them. "I found a piece of paper, there's a signature on it."

"What's the name?" Sam asked.

"Sanford...Ellicott." she squinted while reading the cursive pen-writing.

Sam looked at the journal. "His name's in here, too. Sanford Ellicott, he was the chief of staff here. Apparently, there was an uproar of riots during his last day of working here, which was also when he was killed."

"Riots. That equals some mad spirits." Dean clicked his light off.

"So...where are they then?" Emily asked, pointing her flashlight around the hallway some more.

"Spooks only come out at night." confirmed Sam, closing the journal.

Emily's face read a mix of relief and frustration. She clicked her flashlight off and left the hallway, taking another look at the abandoned wheelchairs and IV poles that were left sitting there. She stopped and just stood there, looking and imagining the things that could have occurred in this asylum. Figments of her imagination included patients tied to beds, them crying out for help, even though treatment was supposed to be helping them. Dean called out to her, snapping her out of it.

"Come on, we've got work to do." He shouted.

She jogged out of the asylum after Dean and the doors were slammed. She got into the Impala and buckled in, sitting up straight and looking forward. Dean got into the driver's seat and started the engine.

"Get this." Sam said, looking at his phone. "Sanford had a son named James Ellicott, he's a psychiatrist in town. Let's check him out to see if he knows anything about the riots."

"Sounds good." Dean sped away from the asylum and down the road per Sam's directions.

Emily continued to look ahead of her, thoughts racing about the asylum. Half of her couldn't wait until the spirits came out, and the other half didn't want to go back. As the car kept moving through town, they eventually came to a large building, one that held a small amount of offices inside, like dentists or optometrists. Dean and Sam left the vehicle, Emily remaining inside to think to herself.

"Someone's gotta get the information out of the guy." Dean looked at Sam.

"What? Why me?" Sam furrowed his brow.

"Because Junior Mint in there isn't feeling up to speed today. And you're better at the sweet talking. We'll wait here." Dean tried to convince him with a smile.

"Junior Mint?" Emily whispered to herself inside the car.

Sam rolled his eyes and walked away from Dean and the Impala. Making his way through the front doors, he tried to think of a good story, some type of cover or fake emotions. He used the directories in the lobby to find Dr. Ellicott's office. When he finally made his way there, he shyly opened the door to see nobody in the waiting room. He walked in, closed the door, and took a seat in one of the chairs. He tapped his fingers on the arms while he waited for somebody to come and get him. In this time, he used it to think, which was never a good idea for him to do. Dean was right, Emily wasn't up to speed today. The asylum seemed to have create something inside her head, which is probably what happened to officer Kelly. His thoughts were interrupted when a door creaked open, a middle-aged man was waiting impatiently with reading glasses.

"You may come in now." He said, widening the gap of the door so Sam could enter.

Sam stood up and entered Ellicott's office. He closed the door behind him and sighed, pulling a small notepad out. He forced a smile on his face as he sat down in his chair across from Sam, who sat on a small couch.

"What can I do for you, today?" he asked Sam.

"Well Dr. Ellicott, I've just had to see someone, there's so much stress piling on, you know?" he forced a look at Ellicott's degree.

"Stress, eh?" Ellicott wrote in his notebook.

"Oh, now I know why your name is so familiar sounding! Your father, he was a uh, a scientist at the old asylum, right?" Sam smiled.

Dr. Ellicott sighed and took his glasses off. "Yes. He was. Anyway, what about this stress you've been having…"

"Sam."

"…Sam." He put his glasses back on.

"Well, you see, I've been on this road trip with my brother." The words 'and sister' almost popped out, but he kept them in.

"A road trip sounds fun, why would it be stressful?"

Sam tried again. "I'm sorry, but I can't help but think of your old man. Weren't there riots at that asylum? What happened do you think?"

Ellicott clicked his pen several times before placing it with the notebook down on his desk. He looked at Sam dead in the eyes.

"Listen. You seem awfully preoccupied with this asylum business, but I have a job to do. If you tell me your feelings like you're supposed to, I'll tell you about the riots. How does that sound?"

Sam blinked. He had no other choice but to wipe the looming sweat away and shake his head in agreement.

**Impala, Outside The Office**

Dean was leaning against the Impala while Emily was sitting on the ground in a criss-cross form. Gray clouds started to form above them, and a breeze was beginning to pick up. It was the type of breeze that makes hair blow dramatically, as if in a 'deep' music video. They were silent. Birds sang silently in trees around them while they could hear cars on the roads all around, zooming over the asphalt and causing pebbles to dribble off into ditches.

"If I weren't a hunter, Dean, I'd be a psychologist." Emily stated, looking at the sky.

Dean looked at his sister, surprised at the sudden outburst. "Really?"

She nodded. "Yup."

"Why?" Dean looked at the sky too.

"I like to help people." She squinted as the sun poked through the clouds for a few brief seconds.

Dean crossed his arms. "But we help people this way, don't we?"

She interlocked her fingers and covered her eyes as a way of thinking. "I want to hear them, though. I want to hear their pain so I can make it go away."

Dean got the sudden realization that she was talking about Grant.

"Hey…" he started.

"Never mind me, Dean." She turned her head his direction and smiled, her hands still over her eyes. "I'm just an emotional kid. Don't think about me too hard, I'm okay. I promise."

She straightened up as she saw Sam walking towards them, hands in his coat pockets. He didn't look very happy, his face was strained and he wasn't making eye contact with either of them. She rocked back and forth daintily as she tried to make him uncomfortable, she demanded information, and to get it, she would act out accordingly. She gave him an innocent look, patient looking so he would feel bad and talk to her about what happened in the office.

"What'd you get, Sam?" Dean asked, not making eye contact with Sam.

Sam made his look at Emily, quickly looking away, regretting his decision to do so.

"Yea, Sam. What'd you get?" she followed up.

"According to the doc, in 1964, some of the heavy duty inmates rioted against the staff. All of them were in the south wing. Several of the bodies weren't found, including Ellicott's."

Emily jumped up. "So I guess we gotta go back and salt those assholes." She opened the car door.

"Time for a scavenger hunt." Dean clapped his hands together and got into the driver's seat.

"Thanks, Sam." She smiled as she put her seatbelt on.

Sam looked at her in extreme confusion. "For what exactly?"

"Being helpful." Her smile faded and she narrowed her eyes. Had he never been thanked before?

Sam climbed into the passenger seat, as usual, and buckled himself in. They all agreed to go back to the motel to gear up and get a game plan. As Dean revved the engine and sped away, Emily saw Sam give a quick glance back to Ellicott's office. She bit her lower lip and crossed her leg atop the other. She looked back as well, seeing a faint shadow in the window disappear behind a curtain.

"Sam, how'd you get him to talk?" she asked when Sam looked away.

"I told him fake stories." He replied.

"About?" she glanced at Dean, who was trying to stay out of this.

"The family, you know? I came up with normal family stuff to complain about in exchange for the info." He looked at her threateningly through the rearview mirror.

He knew that she knew he was lying. And she knew it, just by the way he just looked at her. Dean pulled into the motel lot and put the car in park, leaving it running. He got out and made them both follow, they all needed their own separate supplies, in case things got in a pinch. Their room was neat and organized, or at least Emily's was, so gathering their arsenal was fast and easy. Dean was the fastest out of the room with his stuff, and Sam was about to follow when Emily stopped him. She flat-tired his shoes, causing him to trip, making him nearly face-plant into the parallel wall. As he struggled to get his shoes back on, she approached him slowly, backpack over her shoulder. Sam looked up at her while she looked down at him.

"I allowed you to listen to my feelings, therefore I have a right to listen to yours. Whatever you said in there is able to be discussed with Dean and I too. We're all in this together, Sam."

Her eyes were pleading, she extended a hand out to him to help him up. He denied the offer by getting up himself. He walked away from her and out of the motel, leaving her to sigh and rub her forehead in a troubled state.

Dean was prepared to honk the horn before he saw Sam scuttle out of the building annoyedly. When he got in, he slammed the door and threw his bag back into Emily's usual spot.

"Hey now, watch it. Apologize to Baby." He warned, pointing his finger like a nagging adult.

"I'm not apologizing to your stupid car, Dean." He spat back as he crossed his arms and frowned like a toddler.

Emily came about a minute later and climbed into the car, but not before she scooched Sam's bag over to the other end of the seat. They made short eye-contact in the mirror before Dean adjusted it again before backing out. The sun was dipping down over the horizon line, creating a cool pink flare throughout the sky. It would be complete night soon, which brought all three of them closer to the asylum's walking inmates. The days seemed to go by so quickly, probably due to the amount of effort they all put in for each other. In a few short days, Emily had come to know her brothers while they came to know her. However, she felt an anxious pull on her heart to talk to them about something. There was a problem though; she didn't know what that something was. She zoned out while looking at the sunset, which had disappeared and become a cool night. The asylum rose in the distance, Dean speeding up for a sort of dramatic effect. When they finally parked by the entrance again, they double-checked their gear and opened the doors. Emily sort of jumped out, her legs jittery and her teeth clamping together out of excitement. She pulled her flashlight out and turned it on. She could see the moon already, it was a bright crescent. It appeared to be the waxing gibbous. She continued to look at the rising moon as Dean opened the doors. They all filed in, allowing Emily to close the door behind them. In the newly created darkness, the asylum had multiplied the creepiness perspective by about twenty. The brothers flicked their lights on. As they did, the apparition of a woman appeared in front of them. Dean whipped his rifle out in front of him and shot it. Sam jumped back, slightly startled, but Emily stepped closer to where the apparition just stood.

"Was that rock salt?" she asked in awe.

"Yep." Dean smiled. "Bullets of rock salt. It'll keep those ghosts off our asses."

She smacked his nose.

"Ow!"

"She wasn't attacking us, Dean." She scolded as she turned around again.

While rubbing his nose, Dean lowered his rifle down to his side as he watched the same apparition flicker in front of him again. Emily stood in front of him and held her arm out to the side, telling them they were harmless. The apparition didn't pay much attention and swept through the door to the south wing. Sam let out an exhale as he looked at Emily scope the room with her flashlight. There were apparitions everywhere, appearing and disappearing as fast as they came. Then they heard tears coming from the hallway through the south wing. Going through the doors, they consecutively saw a girl curled up in a corner, crying. Dean aimed the rifle.

"Don't shoot!" Sam shouted, whipping the rifle in another direction.

"Whoops." Dean whispered.

Emily and Sam looked at each other, nodding. Sam approached the girl and kneeled down to her. "What's your name?"

The girl looked up, frightened, and allowed her eyes to bolt back and forth between all three of them. She seemed hesitant to answer the question, but Sam urged her with the question again.

"Kat…" she answered shakily.

"Alright, Kat, what are you doing here all alone?" Sam helped her up.

"My boyfriend and I…we came here for, like, fun…" she looked at the floor, her eyes widening, "Oh that's right! We got separated, I can't find him." She held her hands out pleadingly.

"We'll look for him, but you gotta get out of here." Dean concluded.

She shook her head. "I'm not leaving without him."

Sam and Dean looked at each other, then back at Kat. Emily stepped forward.

"We'll help you find him. I know how important it is to know he's okay." She walked up to her and patted her shoulder.

"He's so dumped after this." Kat remarked, stomping away from her and Sam.

Emily was taken aback and blinked, retreating the hand that was left outstretched where Kat's shoulder just was. Sam looked at her and laughed, walking up to Dean, who was looking around the hall.

"So what do you suppose we do, Dean?"

Dean sighed. "Kat and I will go looking for…" he turned to look at Kat. "What's his name?"

"Gavin." Kat replied.

"Gavin." Dean finished.

"Okay, cool. Emily and I do what, be sitting ducks?" Sam narrowed his eyes.

Emily stepped in. "Nooooo, we just go looking somewhere else in the asylum."

Sam looked back at her and clenched his jaw, nodding. He and her walked down the hall and turned left, while Kat and Dean continued to go straight. The chorus of flashlights clicking echoed through the emptiness of the asylum.

Dean and Kat continuously walked, looking in rooms with the flashlight and turning over tables and chairs, moving shelves. Kat was playing with her hands, seemingly nervous and jumpy. Dean decided to break the silence.

"So, you like horror movies?" he asked, not breaking concentration.

"Horror movies? I'm living in one! Have you seen—''

"The ghosts walking around? I get it. My life's a horror movie. There's a bunch of climaxes and no ending." He looked in a room.

"That sucks. Who's the girl that's with you guys? I figure Sam's your brother." She asked.

"That's our sister." He gulped.

"You guys have a really big age difference, just saying…" Kat said.

Dean gave her a look, realizing that she was right. They had no idea how Emily was alive, but the fact of the matter was, she lived in another hallway, living and breathing with Sam.

Emily was whistling "Remedy" by Seether while looking through the rooms with her flashlight. Sam was behind her, clearly aggravated and upset.

"So you wanna talk, Grumpy?" she asked, not turning her head.

"Don't call me that." He snapped back.

"I'm not gonna stop trying to talk to you, Sam. Being a little bitch about your family life doesn't get you anywhere. You can talk to me." She turned down another hall. This asylum was a maze.

"You'll tell Dean."

"What am I, fifteen? Please, whatever is shared individually should remain individual. You can tell Dean when you want."

Sam's response was interrupted by male screaming. They broke into a sprint through the halls. The screaming was cut off by the clanging of wheelchairs the fluttering of papers. Sam ran ahead of her and out of sight around another corner. She almost ran into him when he was stopped in the middle of the hall. She stepped up next to him, they were standing in front of a boy that was collapsed in front of a toppled wheelchair and cabinet. He wasn't unconscious, he was just incredibly clumsy. It must have been Gavin.

"Hey are you alright kid?" Sam went over to him and helped him up.

"Thanks. And yea, I was running from this…ghost thing." He kept looking behind him.

"Are you hurt?" Emily asked.

He shook his head. "Just a bump on the head, but I'm okay."

"Okay, Gavin, we've gotta get you out of here." Emily continued.

"How'd you know my name?"

"Your girlfriend's looking for you." Sam answered.

"Did the ghost try to hurt you?" Emily asked as they started their way back to Dean and Kat.

He shook his head. "She whispered something…but I don't remember what it was…"

"Don't beat yourself up over it, it's okay. Let's just get you back to Kat. She's worried about you." She tried to hide that lie, everybody here knew there was going to be a breakup.

It was silent until there was a high-pitched scream deeper into the south wing. They all broke into a sprint in order to get back to Kat and Dean. Dean was in front of a door, clearly locked, and banging on it. Kat was screaming inside the room and there were low-pitched moans.

Sam stepped up to the door. "Kat! Don't panic, they're only trying to communicate with you! Stay calm and listen to them!"

"That's easy for you to say!" Kat screamed within the room.

Emily tried to keep Gavin calm while the screaming ceased. There was only heavy breathing and sniffling. The door unlocked, Kat stepping out of it. She was pale, but untouched.

"137." She said.

"What?" Dean asked.

"I'm assuming that's a room number?" Emily crossed her arms.

Everyone was silent for several minutes, the couple didn't hug and the siblings didn't talk. Dean shut the room door and looked them each in the eye. He gave Sam his rifle.

"I'm going to look for that room. Sam, Emily, get these two out of the asylum."

Sam tried to interject, but Emily did it for him. "Alone? You're going alone?"

Dean nodded and started walking away.

"God dammit." Emily whispered as he did.

They headed back for the entrance, the couple now united. Sam led the way while Emily kept a lookout behind them all. They got to the main room, Sam headed immiediately for the door. Hope was blocked by a dam as Emily heard the door stall, it didn't open.

"Are you kidding me?" Kat cried.

"Stay calm. Obviously, whatever has us in here doesn't want us to leave." Sam concluded with sweat dripping down his face.

Emily had a smile filled with disbelief on her face. She looked at the ceiling of the asylum and started to grind her teeth. "I guess I'm not getting out." She whispered.

Not having heard her, Sam gave her instructions. "Emily, you have to stand guard over these two while I go help Dean. You can shoot a rifle, right?"

She nodded, in which case she was given the rifle. She watched as Sam ran back through the doors of the south wing. She cleaned up her expression and told the couple they'd be safe. All that was left was to be patient.

Dean read the room number, which was covered with dust. It was 137. He busted it open with his foot and looked around. The room was an absolute mess. There were chairs broken, papers everywhere, and blood stains on the walls. Dean grimaced as he stepped around broken glass and wires. He knocked on the walls to ease his nerves, but then he struck a hollow spot. Looking down to where his knuckles were knocking, there was a secret hatch in the wall. He pried it open, a cloud of dust exploding in his face. Through his coughs, he swore and fanned the dust away from his eyes. His coughs dissipating, he picked up the fairly large journal filled with papers. He sifted through them, the scrawled writings describing electrocution and dismemberment. Burns and violence, ending with electricity to the temples. It was supposed to be some sort of _therapy_. Dean closed the journal and closed his eyes, an image of his sister going through his head suddenly. Shaking off the horrible possibility that flashed through him, he turned and left out the door again. He kept the journal under his arm as he sped through the halls and burst through the doors. He was met with a barrel of a gun to his chest. Emily was behind the trigger, very serious and content. She didn't shoot, but she lowered the gun.

"You scared me." She said in a monotone voice.

"Thanks for not shooting. Where's Sam?" Dean asked, gripping the journal tight.

"Weren't you in the basement?" Gavin stepped forward. "You called him, you said you were in the basement."

Emily turned around, confused. "Wait, when did he say this?"

"While you were in fantasy land." Kat retorted a bit maliciously.

Dean shook his head and bolted back out the doors. Emily was left holding the rifle.

Sam entered the basement and continuously sighed, wondering if Dean had found anything, and more importantly, why Dean wanted to meet in the basement. As he looked around, it appeared that nobody was there. There was only an exam table, covered in dust and webs. He heard footsteps behind him, and he was suddenly grabbed by a tight grip. He was turned around, suddenly face to face to an ugly and older representation of Dr. Ellicott. He came to realize that he was staring at his dad.

"Sanford Ellicott—'' Sam's voice was cut off by pain and the sudden rush of saliva up his throat.

Electricity pulsed from Ellicott's hands, making Sam's body convulse, like he was having a seizure.

"Shhhh…it's alright…I'm going to make you feel better." Ellicott whispered.

Five minutes later, Dean walked through the doors of the basement. Incredibly impatient, he turned Sam around, who was just standing there staring off into space.

"C'mon Sam, you're just as bad as Emily today." He remarked.

Sam was completely unfazed and calm. "I'm sorry. Why'd you call me down here?" Sam asked.

"Uh, I didn't? Anyway, I found Ellicott's journal. It's incredibly sick. This GUY was sick. He tried using violent tactics like electrocution and burning as some sort of therapy treatment. So that's probably the reason why the inmates rioted. They had enough of this guy's crap. They hid the body, and now he's doing all of this from beyond the grave." Dean explained.

Sam looked at the journal with a confused look. "But…he was helping them."

Dean extended his arms to make a notion of "what the fuck Sam are you stupid". "No. He wasn't."

Sam clenched his jaw. Dean shook his head and read from one of the first entries.

"It says he has a secret room. And what better place to hide this dick's body than the place he performed his experiments. We find that room, that means we find the body and burn him." Dean scammed.

Dean walked across the room to see a very flimsy piece of wall. He attempted to find an opening while Sam picked his bag off the ground. He pulled his rifle out of it and cocked it.

"Good thinking Sam, we might need that." He turned around.

Sam shot Dean in the chest with a big blast of rock salt. The blast sent Dean flying through the thin layer of wall and into the secret laboratory. The wind was knocked out of him and he struggled to get a deep breath of air.

"Sam…?!" Dean lifted his head about an inch.

Sam stepped through the debris he just caused and looked down at his brother. "I'm tired of it Dean. I'm tired of you, Dean."

Dean began to huff and attempt to sit up. Sam stopped him.

"I'm tired of being told what to do! I'm tired of being second in command and following you around, like Dad's little soldier! I'm sick of you being the favorite! I'm sick of you being alive, I want to do what I want instead of having you tell me what to do! You're just like dad, you never cared about me! And even now, you don't now either! Especially now that _Emily_ stepped into the picture! You want to give the impression that you're the golden brother, well you're not! I'm sick of it, Dean! I'm sick of you, I'm sick of Dad, and I'm sick of that thing that calls herself our sister!" He screamed at him.

Dean pulled a gun from his belt, a pistol filled with actual bullets. He pushed it in Sam's direction, letting him pick it up.

"If you hate me so much, then kill me! But good luck killing her. You'll ruin her even more! I don't care if you kill me, but you will when you have to deal with her! Go ahead! Kill me Sam! Kill me!" Dean screamed at his brother.

Sam pulled the trigger, but no bullet shot out. He tried again, no bullet. Dean stood up and looked his brother in the eyes. He shot his fist into Sam's face and sent him to the floor, clearly unconscious. He sighed and stretched his arms. He patted his pockets, where had kept the bullets. He began to tear cupboards apart, going through papers and searching for the crazy doctor's bones. Everything he found was filled with cobwebs, it was also most likely something Ellicott had used to torture his patients. He then checked a smaller cupboard in the center of the room that held scalpels and syringes in a tray on top. Well enough, when he opened the door of the cupboard, several bones toppled out. The majority of the skeleton was intact, which was perfect for being salted. When Dean stood up and turned around, he was in the midst of pulling his lighter out of his jacket pocket. However, he was attacked with a tackle from an old man. With another glance, Dean recognized it to be Ellicott's ghost.

"Alright you son of a bitch…" he attempted to recoil an attack with the rifle across the room, but Ellicott attacked again.

Dean was being choked, the firm hands of the ghost wrapped around his throat. He was within reach of the bones, but he wasn't holding his lighter anymore. He glanced farther away from him and there was the lighter, just lying there. He reached with all of his effort, the oxygen was being squeezed from his lungs. One hand was released and began shooting sparks of electricity. The hand drew closer to Dean's face, but he finally clenched the lighter in his hand. He flicked it on and tossed it into the cupboard next to him. In that instant, Ellicott burst into flames and released him. Dean gasped for air and stood up; Ellicott was wailing in pain and begging for forgiveness. Dean shook his head as he watched Ellicott's form crumble into dust. He let out a heavy exhale, in the same moment Sam snapped his eyes open.

"Dean?...!" Sam looked around frantically. "What happened? Ellicott—''

"Gone. He's gone, Sam." Dean didn't look at him.

There was the clearing of a throat in the doorway. They both looked over to see Emily with her own gun in her hands. She looked pale and tired.

"I came running when I heard a gunshot…but I couldn't find the basement. Are you okay guys?" she asked, more fragile than normal.

They both nodded. Dean didn't help Sam up, but Emily extended her hand. Sam took her hand and got up. Dean looked at the burnt remains.

"We're done here."

"Kat and Gavin should be outside, it's nearly dawn. I made sure they were safe." She said, letting her brothers out of the room first.

Dean patted her back. "Good job."

She put a fake smile on her face and followed them with her head down. She forced herself not to cry as she remembered the words that Sam shouted at Dean.

"Sweet, the doors are open." Sam smiled as they all entered the main room.

Kat and Gavin were already outside, smiling and embracing the sunlight. Sam walked out first, Emily paused at the doorframe behind Dean. The asylum was letting her out.

"You said you thought you might not get let out. Well, we got you out." Dean said in a low voice, he was on the other side of the door, in the outside.

She stepped out and squinted from the sudden light. Rubbing her eyes, she heard Gavin and Kat thanking them. She wanted to feel good, but she couldn't. She shielded her eyes from the sun with her hand and gave them both a hug before they ran away from the asylum, holding hands.

"They're breaking up." Emily confirmed, walking to the Impala.

Sam and Dean stood open-mouthed at the remark, Dean smiled a little as he walked to the Impala as well. Sam cleared his throat and stopped him.

"Dean, for what I said back there…"

"Stop." Dean put his hand on the door handle.

"It wasn't me saying it, I didn't have control over my body. It was all Ellicott, I'm sorry." Sam pleaded.

"Drop it, Sam. Let's just go back to the motel."

From inside the Impala, Emily looked back and forth between the windows that her brothers were standing by.

"Everybody in this fucking family needs to learn to talk to each other…" she whispered to herself.

She yawned as her brothers entered the vehicle. Dean started the engine and they drove back to the motel.

**Motel**

Sam was in the shower and Emily had a towel on her head. She had just gone while Dean was waiting to go next. She was still pale-looking and tired, but Dean had hardly taken notice. She was curled up in sweatpants and a sweatshirt, looking through her phone apps randomly. Dean sat still, staring off into space.

"Hey, Dean." She broke the silence.

"Yea, what's up Swami?" he looked at the towel on her head and laughed.

"I uh…I don't bother you…do I? Suddenly…you know…showing up like I did…" she put her phone down.

Dean's smile faded. "What are you talking about?"

"I knew where the basement was, Dean. Sam and I passed it while looking for Gavin."

"You heard." Dean's face was filled with frustration.

"If I'm a bother, I can just leave. I don't have to stay." She swallowed.

"Well we want you to stay." He tried to convince her.

"Sam obviously doesn't…" she trailed off.

"No, POSESSED Sam doesn't. Sam was possessed by that freak show. You're good. You're also too tired. Take a nap, go to bed. I'll pick us up some grub and we can watch television today. Today's a day-in type of day. Go, go to bed." He shooed her into the bedroom.

She whipped the towel off of her head and draped it neatly on a door. She then proceeded to jump into one of the beds, black hitting her vision right away as the sleep overtook her.

**Night**

Several hours had passed since their meals, showers, and television shows. Sam was lying in bed, images of the asylum crossing through his head. He was taken out of slumber by the ringing of a cell phone. His vision was blurry at first, but his hand automatically reached for the night stand, grabbing the phone that must have been ringing. He looked at the number, but it was unfamiliar. He answered, trying not to yawn and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Hello…?"

_"__Sam?" _

The sleep seemed to have been punched out of him. He knew that voice. He knew it too well to not recognize it right away.

"Dad?"


	3. Chapter 3: Orchard of the Crazies

With that, Dean jolted awake and ruffled his blankets while attempting to get out of bed. His eyes were wide and his face was turning red from frustration.

"Is that dad?!" he asked.

Sam ignored him. "Dad, where are you? Are you okay?"

"_I'm fine, Sam. I'm fine. I can't tell you where I am, and I have a word of advice."_

"Dad, why can't you tell us where you are?! Where ARE you?" Sam pushed.

"_I said I can't tell you. I can't because I think I'm close to finding what killed your mother. And Jess."_

"Sam, give me the phone." Dean held his hand out.

"Dad, what is it?!" Sam shouted.

"Sam, dammit, give me the phone!" Dean was shouting too.

"_Stop following me. Both of you, you need to stop following me. I need you to take down some names for me._"

"Like hell, dad! Tell me—'' the phone was snatched up by Dean.

"Dad, it's me. Names? Yea, I have a pen. I'm ready, read them off." Dean jotted down the names John repeated to him.

Sam sat in his bed in disbelief as Dean took the orders. Emily walked in the room while rubbing her eyes. Her face read disbelief, just like Sam's.

"Dad…?" she whispered.

Sam swallowed and looked at Dean. "Give her the phone, Dean."

Dean looked up from the paper and at Sam, then to Emily. "I'm not giving her the phone, Sam."

"_What was that? Her who?" _

"Nothing, dad. Yea, I got the names. Yes, sir."

The call was disconnected and the phone was placed on the table. Emily stared at it with sorrow in her eyes, clearly pained once again. She looked up at Dean, who was getting ready to leave.

"We have a case." Was all he muttered.

She nodded her head and proceeded to get ready to leave. Sam looked back and forth between her and him, not knowing whether to speak or just go along with what was going on. He decided to get dressed, only he didn't speak to either of them. Emily was the first to be ready, her backpack was swung over her shoulder and her hair was brushed. Even though she looked ready, Sam knew she wasn't ready. She wanted to talk to him. However, she knew perfectly well that she couldn't. They needed to know more about her, about how she was created. Dean was ready, his bag over his shoulder. He packed Sam's things up and tried to rush him, but Sam refused his help. Dean led the way out the door, Emily following at his heels, and Sam closed the room door behind them.

**Impala**

Sam was scribbling on a piece of paper, trying to connect the names that their dad had told them to write down. Emily sat in the backseat, trying to watch what Sam was writing. Occasionally she looked to Dean, focusing on the concentration in his face. He took driving really seriously, probably because the slightest nick on the Impala would send him into a downward spiral of depression. She cracked her knuckles.

"So guys, where are we headed?" she smiled a little.

It took Dean a minute to register that she had asked a question. "Indiana."

She whistled in amazement. "You know, I've only been to Indiana once. Pesky spirit case. I remember Grant kept smelling pizza, because that was his favorite food and the ghost was taunting him. It was funny, but the thing pissed me off." She looked over Sam's shoulder again, he had stopped writing and he let out a deep exhale.

"Alright. All these people, the names, they all went missing while they were on road trips. They all disappeared along the same stretch of area, all in the same week of April." Sam told them.

Dean nodded and Emily smiled. "Good job, Sam." She patted his shoulder.

After a few moments, Sam spoke up again. "I don't want to go to Indiana."

Dean shot him a look. "Excuse me? That's where the case is, Sam."

Sam looked back at him. "Dad's in California. I tracked the number back to a pay phone in California."

"Sam, he told us to stop following him. And we're gonna listen to him." Dean began to grit his teeth together in frustration.

"Of course you are. I don't want to, Dean. We're going to California."

Dean screeched the car to a halt, causing Emily to fly front onto middle console. They continued to argue around her body.

"I knew you meant what you said back there. At the asylum. _Possessed _ my ASS." Dean shouted.

Sam opened his door just as Emily was able to balance herself and get up. Her eyes were in a frenzy and she fumbled for the door handle. She opened her door and stumbled out, Sam was retrieving his bag from the trunk. Dean's door was slammed shut and she saw him walk briskly over to their brother. Sam slammed the trunk.

"We are going to Indiana, just like dad told us to. Now get back in the damn car." Dean pointed aggressively to the Impala.

Emily stepped forward and waved her arms at hip level pleadingly. "Please, Sam, we can go to California when we finish the job!"

Sam gave her an angry look. "You're just saying that. You're just like Dean, dad's little soldier."

Her voice began to crack to try to get him to stay. "I want to find dad too, but for now we have to do what we can here! What if we mess him up, you know? Like, what if he's really close and we just crash the party? Please, please, get back in the car!"

Dean stepped forward. "If you leave us, we're just going to leave you behind."

Sam started walking away. "That's what I want you to do."

Emily's brain was trying to calculate the complicated drama that must have existed before she stepped into the picture. She was watching Sam walk away without truly saying goodbye. She forced tears back and she began to panic. Was Sam serious? What if they did leave him behind and he needed them in the future, what if she never saw her brother ever again? She tilted her head to the side and took a step forward.

"Sam?" she shouted after him.

He didn't say anything in response. He was beginning to fade in the mist which was being created by the early morning. She sprinted forward after him.

"Sam, you can't go!" she screamed after him.

Her middle was clutched and she was forced back. She looked up and saw it was Dean holding her back. He was trying really hard to get her to stop flailing.

"No, come back! We're family!" she screamed once more.

The last comment seemed to phase Dean more than it phased Sam. She was being pulled backward, back to the Impala. She didn't realize that Dean had been talking to her until she looked at him to interject his capturing her. She didn't speak when she read the anger and frustration in his eyes. She let him talk to her.

"You and me will be fine. If Sam doesn't need us," he opened the passenger door, "then he'll come to his senses. We have a job to do."

Emily climbed in after she nodded. When Dean got in, he only clutched the steering wheel for a long time. Emily sniffled and wiped her face.

"I'm sorry I acted like that." She said, looking down at her hands.

He huffed and looked at her. "I get it. Just be on your toes for me now, okay?"

She nodded and buckled herself in. Dean started down the road again, his eyes once again concentrated on the road. The car felt inexplicitly empty, there was only one brother. One third of the pack has chewed its arm off and run away from the others. Now that Emily was alone, thoughts flew through her head. She began thinking about what Sam said back at the asylum. _I'm sick of that thing that calls herself our sister! _

"Dean, I'm not a thing am I? Like, I'm a human being. I'm not an animal or a robot. I'm not some sort of demon or one of the fuckin' angels that's in the bible. I'm not a book. Or a computer, or a strand of hair. Like, I'm a human being…not a thing…" she was babbling.

"To be honest, you lost me after the question. But what's got into your head?" Dean didn't take his eyes off the road.

"What Sam said back at the asylum. I feel like I ruined his life." Her voice lowered.

"Stop it. You didn't ruin anything. Sam's been going through stuff. Remember how Jess died? Yea, he still feels like shit after that. I'd forget about it."

She nodded, reassured. "Okay. Don't you get down either. You're the golden brother after all." She smirked and chewed on her sleeve.

He looked over at her. "Oh, shut up…"

**Small Town, Morning**

"Alright, because the couples got lost along the same stretch of road, I'm going to ask about them around town." Dean stated, leaving the car.

Emily was holding a map. "This town's in the middle of the area…"

"Bingo, Junior Mint." He smacked the car, by her open window, showing the approval of her observation.

She nodded and folded the map up. When stuffing it back into the glove compartment, she saw some people in her peripheral vision. When she turned her head, a group of middle-aged people were looking at her. She waved awkwardly, but didn't receive one back. She laughed awkwardly and took the initiative to leave the car. Dean was looking through his phone, she caught him looking at Sam's name in the contact list.

"You ready?" he asked, putting the phone away quickly.

She nodded, but turned around to look at the people again. They had gone away, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Following Dean into "Scotty's Café", she could feel her stomach gurgling with disapproval of the lack of sustenance inside her. She coughed it away, sniffling through her nose as a cover-up for the cough. The café was inviting and homey, Dean pulled papers from his inner-jacket pocket and unfolded them. There were pictures of the people they were looking for, along with the names under them. He slammed the papers on the counter, the owner looking surprised, but Dean gave him a smile.

"The name's John Bonner."

Emily looked up at his brother in cocky disbelief. _That's the drummer for Led Zeppelin…_

"Hey, that's the name of the drummer from Led Zeppelin." The man smiled.

Emily smiled and shook her head, Dean straightened up from his cool, 'leaning over counter' stance. He was clearly impressed.

"Have you seen these people?" he held up the papers that read 'Holly' and 'Vince'.

The man didn't look at the papers for a long time, he only took a glance. "We usually don't get visitors around here, buddy."

_That wasn't what he asked. _She thought to herself, furrowing her eyebrows.

Dean mumbled a sarcastic remark under his breath, it even surprised Emily so much it made her laugh. She then cleared her throat and left the café behind Dean. She broke out into laughter again and had to support herself against a telephone pole. In the meantime, Dean wandered over to a gas station that was empty, except for two people and a teenager which was farther away, minding her own business. He shouted for them, waving with his one hand to get their attention. They smiled warmly at him.

"Hello, how can we help you?" the man asked. He looked about sixty.

"Uh yes, I'm looking for my two friends, they passed through here on a road trip." Dean showed them the papers.

The same as Scotty, the café owner, they hardly glanced at the papers. The woman simply frowned and focused on Emily, who was still recovering her outburst at the telephone pole.

"We don't get many visitors around here." She answered, looking away toward the road.

"Never seen them before, buddy." The man added.

Suddenly, a new voice entered the conversation. "Yes we have, it was that nice couple whose car broke down." The girl had walked into the conversation. "We fed them pie and showed them on their way." She was smiling.

Dean smiled cockily. "So you _do _get visitors around here."

The girl grabbed her arm and led him away. "Sorry about my aunt and uncle, they're a bit…you know."

"Yea." Dean nodded.

"The couple drove off to the interstate. If you want, I can give you directions." She smiled.

"That'd be great. Thanks…" he paused and waited for a name.

"Emily." She smiled.

Dean blinked and narrowed his eyes, turned around at his sister, then looked back again. His mouth was open in surprise. His sister waved, clearly over her laughing problem, and began walking over to him.

"Those directions?" he was hurrying.

Blonde Emily began directing her hands south, along the road and past the orchard. Dean, while backing up, backed into his sister.

"Yea, thanks for those directions, Emily." He waved.

"What? I didn't say shit." His sister said.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her for the Impala. It took her a moment to realize why Dean was hurrying away.

"GOD DAMMIT, IS HER NAME EMILY TOO?!" she screamed as they neared the car.

Emily's despise for other girls with her name created the opportunity for Dean to shove her in the passenger seat and close the door quickly. He hopped into the driver's seat and started the engine, immediately heading to the exit of the town. He honked the horn to the other Emily when he drove past. Dean sighed, now in the safety of his own vehicle where Emily knew not to make a fuss.

"I hate people with my name." she crossed her arms.

"I kind of figured that." He smiled nervously.

"Oh really?" she narrowed her eyes.

"I didn't mean that as an insult, you're just weird enough to predict that kind of thing." He shrugged.

Her mouth was wide open in surprise, but she started laughing again anyway. Dean let out another sigh, following the road to the interstate.

They were driving for a while, according to Emily's map, they were almost there. The sun was setting, the radio was playing classic rock, but due to the hum of the car, neither of them really took notice to what band was playing. Emily drummed on her thighs and decided to break the silence that has lasted several hours.

"How do you think Sam's doing?" she asked hesitantly.

Right away she knew that wasn't the best thing to start a conversation with. Dean took in a deep breath and glanced at her while on a straight-away.

"I bet he's regretting leaving, that's what. But I think he's good. He'll come to his senses sooner or later." He clenched his jaw. He didn't believe himself.

"You know what I think he's doing? It's weird, I've been daydreaming this whole car ride and I've come up with a theory." She smiled.

"Alright, let's hear it." Dean didn't look too thrilled.

"I bet, on his soul-searching quest, he sucks at getting rides from people, because he's so creepy and tall. So he'll try for a ride, but he won't get one. Then he'll meet this girl, right? Pretty girl, funny, nonchalant. She's a hitch hiker too. Sam'll try to hit it off, but she'll ignore him. THEN, when he is finally able to reach transport, he'll gaze at his phone, like in a sappy movie. He'll realize that he was wrong and that his family needs him. When he announces his leave, the girl he meets suddenly wants him to stay! It'll be an internal battle between lust and family, and in the end, he'll choose family because he loves us." She explained.

Dean laughed. "I highly doubt that that's gonna happen."

She shrugged. "I dunno. It seems—''

Dean shushed her suddenly and turned the radio off. There was a clanking in the rear of the car, like a mechanism was about to bust. Dean pulled over to the side of the road and bolted out of the driver's seat. There were small amounts of smoke wafting from underneath the rear of the car. Emily got out as well, waving any smoke away from her face while Dean inspected his Baby.

"God dammit, this came unhinged…" Dean growled under his breath.

Emily, knowing nothing about cars, walked over to her brother with an empty head. She had no knowledge to give, and it wasn't like there was a garage just lying around in the middle of nowhere. Dean stood up and scuffed the road with his toe, not wanting to hurt the car's tires with his foot.

"Are we stranded?" she asked him.

He clenched his jaw and shook his head. "If we find something to reconnect the hinges, we can make an emergency trip back to that town. We don't really have a choice but to go back."

She nodded and pointed to the entrance to an orchard. "Maybe there's somebody living in the orchard?"

Dean turned his head to look at the entrance. He jogged through the opening and was met with a maze of trees, some bearing apples, some withering from malnutrition. Emily followed at his heels, keeping a keen eye out for something they could use to patch up the car. There was suddenly a clear opening, which was laced with apple trees. In the center was what seemed to be a scarecrow. Across from that was a fairly large oak tree, beautiful, bearing flowers that were shaking in the short breezes that came and went. Next to the tree were some random tools, they seemed to be littered there from recent work in the orchard. Emily wandered over to the tree and gazed up at it while Dean was stopped in front of the scarecrow.

"This is one fugly scarecrow." He wrinkled his nose.

Emily turned around and looked at it from a greater distance. "Well, it is supposed to scare things."

Dean was on his tiptoes trying to get a closer look at the horrendous body of straw when he was tapped with a metal object. He turned to see Emily holding a ladder for him.

"Time to meet your prom date." She smiled as he took it from her.

"Just keep looking for something to patch the car up with." He looked at the scarecrow closely.

Rolling her eyes, she returned to the base of the tree to comb through the rest of the trash piled up in front of it. While she did that, Dean examined his scarecrow over thoroughly. He made a face at the thing's horrifying facial features and then grazed over the arms. On the one arm, there was some sort of tattoo. It looked familiar.

"Hey, did one of the missing people have a tattoo?" Dean asked, turning on the ladder.

Without turning around she answered him, "Yes, it was Vince. Why?"

Dean looked at the tattoo again. "Just thought I'd ask."

He got off the ladder and tossed it to the size. He then heard the twirling of a chain and he turned around. Emily was holding a hook on a chain and was spinning it with a smile on her face.

"I found a hook." She continued to spin it.

"I see that. Now stop spinning it before you take a head off."

She stopped spinning it and handed it to him. He then smiled and jogged back to the car. Emily took a quick glance at the scarecrow before she followed him back. It sent a chill up her spine that caused goose bumps to erupt all over her. She turned back and followed Dean, who was already assembling the broken parts of the car back together with the hook. She stopped when she reached him, panting a little. He jumped up and wiped his forehead, he had accumulated a small amount of sweat.

"She'll survive back to the town. I hate backtracking though." He got back into the car.

On the way back, being guided by the moon, Emily's phone vibrated. Her eyes widened, because only few people had her number. Not even her brothers had her number yet. She decided to ignore it, because it only seemed to be a text message. She sighed in relief when the vibrating stopped. After five more minutes, it vibrated again. This time, she grabbed it from her pocket after the first vibration. She typed her password in and tapped her messages. There were two, like she felt. They were both about the same topic.

"_9:45 p.m. Steven_

_Where are you? Call as soon as you can._"

She deleted it and went on to the second message. This one was more blunt and to the point.

"_9:50 p.m. Kyle_

_Come back to Pennsylvania. It's Marcus._"

The names in the messages pounded on her heartstrings. Like a good brother, Dean knew there was something was wrong.

"Who was that, Emily?"

She darkened her phone and put it back in her pocket. "Nobody. I just need to call somebody when this case is over." She didn't look at him.

"What, will I cramp your style or something?" he smiled, but quickly got the hint the situation should not be pressured further.

They let it go. That is, until the phone vibrated again ten minutes later. Clearly losing her concentration, she whipped the phone out and looked at it. This time it was a call. From Kyle.

She grinded her teeth and slowly slid the "accept call" interface.

_"__For fuck's sake, I thought you'd never answer me. I knew you wouldn't answer for Steven, so that's why I chipped in." _the voice on the other end explained.

The sound of Kyle's voice brought tears to her eyes. It hadn't changed, it was still gruff and strong, power behind his words. However, he still cared enough to check in on her. Glancing over at Dean, he was staring right at her, which is why the Impala had impeccably slowed down to a ten miles per hour.

"Kyle, I can't talk…" her voice was cracking under her emotions.

_"__Aw, you miss me so much you're in tears. Anyway, where are ya? Steven and I are dyin' to see you. Not sure who misses you more."_

"I'm…on a case." She locked eyes with Dean.

The phone was silent for a second before she heard him growl. _"You're not ready yet. You KNOW that."_

"Emily, give me the phone." Dean sped up again.

"Kyle, I've done a couple already and I've been fine. I have to go, okay?" she pushed Dean's hand away.

_"__Who the almighty fuck is that?" _

Sensing his boiling anger she hung up and threw the phone in the back seat. She knew Dean was still staring her down, but she also knew he had to eventually put his eyes back on the road. It was going to be a long night.

At dawn they pulled back into town just as the hook was beginning to fail at its job. It wobbled off just as Dean pulled into the gas station. Blonde Emily walked out the door just as he left the vehicle. She looked confused.

"Couldn't find your way to the interstate?"

"Car broke down on the way. Luckily, the sis found a handy hook in an orchard that we broke down by. We drove back here, cause this is the closest town for a while." Dean explained.

Emily stepped out of the Impala and greeted her named-adversary. She looked distant, not at the other Emily, still thinking about the phone call and text messages. Dean placed a hand on her shoulder and told her to head to the café and get something to eat. She did, not bothering to say goodbye to them.

"Is she alright?" Emily asked.

"Yea, she's just had a rough night. Anyway," he pointed to a new car. "Who's car is that?"

"Oh, they're another couple that's passing through here. They're in the café right now, actually. I'll see what I can do about your Impala." She smiled.

He nodded, thanked her, and jogged toward the café. Inside was a new couple he hadn't seen before, and his sister, who had taken a seat farthest away from the door. She had a slice of pie in front of her and was eating slowly, as if thinking was too much to do while eating at the same time. Dean approached the couple, smiling, trying not to come off too strong.

"Hey guys." He stops in front of their table.

Scotty, the café owner, brought slices of pie for the couple, suddenly troubled now that he was face to face with Dean again.

"What are you doing back here, boy?" Scotty didn't look too happy to see him.

"I had a break down on the road, probably from some rocks in the road. Hey, you guys be careful on those roads, alright? They can be pre-tty dangerous. Especially at night." He wagged a finger at them.

The man was not amused. "Hey, we're just trying to eat here, okay?"

Dean put his hands up in defeat and continued on his way to Emily's table. Scotty was eyeballing him the whole way and stepped outside. Emily had about two bites of pie left. Dean activated his teary eyes, begging for the last forkfuls.

"You want the rest? I'm full." She pushed the plate towards him.

Delighted, Dean seemed to inhale the last bites of the pie in an instant. Emily let out a sigh, getting up from the table.

"Now wait a second, I've seen you eat a triple cheeseburger and a large fry and now you're being defeated by a pie? This isn't correct, Em." He said, swallowing.

"I'm just…stressed out. That's all." She smiled at him.

After a few seconds, Dean nodded at her and got up from the table. While they walked out, a sheriff was waiting for them at the door.

"Oh for god's sake, Dean…" she mumbled.

"What seems to be the problem, officer?" Dean asked, clearly annoyed.

"You and your cohort have created enough of a bothersome environment, and I'm asking you to leave." The officer glared at them.

"Cohort? What'd the hell I do? I just ordered some pie!" Emily argued.

The Impala was rolled into the street, fully repaired, and the both of them entered the car per the sheriff's instructions.

"This is bullshit…" Emily mumbled, slamming her door.

Dean started the Impala and drove out, back onto the open road, a police car following them as they went. Over Emily's whining that the whole situation was bullshit, Dean devised an idea.

"Hey."

"Yea, Dean." She huffed.

"What'd you think of that scarecrow? Back at the orchard." He sped up.

"It gave me the fuckin' chills, that's what happened. I could've sworn it looked at me when we were leaving." She crossed her arms.

"Same here. You know what, I bet they're hiding something about that orchard. Nobody likes when I bring it up, I mean anyone in that damn town. Except for Emily, she's clueless."

She cleared her throat and looked at him.

"Not you, the other one!"

She thought before speaking again. "That town is way sketchy. There's no way you or I were that annoying in like, the two hours we were there."

Dean nodded. "Good point."

"I think that couple's gonna be scare-food if we don't keep a lookout."

"That's what I was thinking."

The escort left when they had made it to the orchard area, where they had broken down last time. To Emily, that was a sign that they may be bait for something. They pulled over to the side of the road when the sheriff was for sure out of sight.

"For future reference, will there be a visit to a library?" she asked as Dean turned the car off.

"Maybe, why?"

"I'm in the mood for a good book." She curled up in the passenger seat.

After what seemed like hours, there was the sound of a failing engine farther up the road. There was a read car that passed them two minutes ago, that must have been it. That was the perfect opportunity to leave the car and begin scouting the orchard for the couple. They were probably going to do what they did, search for a person or a spare part. They took the same route they did before, looking around the maze of trees and going even deeper than before. Dean was holding his gun filled with salt, the grip tight around it. After a few minutes of searching, there were crunching leaves, only it was the sound of running over them, not periodical walking. Dean prepared the shotgun, while Emily looked around and turned in circles, searching for the source. Crunching and crackling got closer and closer, until eventually one of the sources ran smack into Emily, knocking her over. Frantic, she got to her feet to see the couple, who was screaming and still struggling to run away. From behind a tree came the walking mass of straw and terror, the scarecrow. Dean shot it square in the chest, giving his sister time to get the couple out of the orchard. Dean ran after them, occasionally checking behind him to see if the scarecrow was following them. As they ran, there was no crow-scaring pursuer, only crows themselves fleeing from the trees. When they safely made it back to the road, they were between the Impala and where the couple's car was parked. The couple was still shaking, eyes still wide. Dean lowered his shotgun and looked to his sister. There was an awkward silence of sorts because the siblings didn't want to have to bother explaining what had just happened. Not only that, they had no idea what they were dealing with.

"What the hell was that?!" the man shouted at them.

Dean stepped forward. "We just saved your lives, be grateful, get back in your car, and get the hell out of here."

The man, appalled, advanced towards Dean until Emily stepped between them, holding the hook and chain.

"We think it's best that you take this chain and mend the hinge in the back of your car. When you find a garage, get it fixed. Vamoose if you want to stay alive." She gave the man a look.

The woman pulled on her significant other's arm, with the chain, back to their vehicle. Without a single 'thanks' spoken, they disappeared in the distance to mend their car. Emily sighed, turning back toward her brother.

"How did you know they needed the chain?" Dean asked, bewildered.

"Because they were a couple with a young woman involved. I'm a young girl woman thing and you're a man. Seems fishy that after one 'couple' wasn't toasted, there was a replacement couple. And there they go." She explained, crossing her arms.

Dean let out a long sigh. "Let's get to a library."

**BURKETSVILLE COMMUNITY COLLEGE, Late Morning**

Dean stood by the Impala in the parking lot while Emily darted inside, having the incredible urge to research. His cell was in his hand, receiving a never-ending dial tone.

_"__Dean?" _

"Sam. I need your help here, buddy." His face was hopeful.

_"__Is something wrong?" _It sounded as if Sam was desperately trying to mask his concern.

"There's this scenario: it involves a living scarecrow and missing couples. Emily figured out that there was a connection between couples and their cars breaking down near this creepy orchard, where the scarecrow ganks them." Dean looked through one window, to see Emily watching him over the pages of a book.

_"__Sounds like Emily's got you covered. Why do you need me?" _

After a pause, Dean swallowed. "Because you're my brother, Sam. I can't do this without you. But you're right; if you want to go on your own, you have every right to do that. I'm proud of you."

Sam paused for a long time. _"I gotta go, Dean."_

Dean felt pain inside him. "Alright Sam."

Sam hung up, leaving Dean to look at the phone in dismay. He looked up to see Emily turning her back to him, most likely involved with her book. Stuffing the phone in his pocket, he sighed. He figured Sam wouldn't want to come back, but he figured he'd give it a shot. He made his way through the doors to see Emily, arms crossed across her chest.

"And so he says that you said 'Goodbye'." She mumbled.

Confused, Dean just followed her down the hall to a very open classroom that was lined with bookshelves. She greeted a professor who was already warm with her, she must have had a discussion with him while Dean was on the phone. But giving his sister another look, she beamed at the thought of knowledge. Then it dawned on him; she looked like a student herself. Of course a professor was willing to share information with her.

"I found the book you were looking for, Miss Wilson." He smiled, holding an old-looking book.

She smiled wide as he placed it on a podium and allowed her to look through it. She looked through the table of contents and found a particular section on 'The Earth and Witchcraft'. Dean took over when she read the section aloud. He quickly paged through, demanding results.

"That's just my older brother. You know how nosy they are." She gave him a toothy grin, completely innocent. He returned the gesture.

Dean stopped on a page that had the picture of a scarecrow. His eyes widened and smiled a little, letting it fade right away.

"Hey, what's this about a scarecrow?" he asked the professor.

"That, dear boy, is the Pagan god of the Earth. It would provide crops to the humans as long as they provided a sacrifice: a man and a woman. If the sacrifice was not delivered in time, which was every spring, the crops would fail, and famine would strike." The professor explained.

"Is there a way to kill it?" Dean was very serious now.

"Uh, well, it's tied to a specific title of nature. A special tree keeps it alive. If that's destroyed, the scarecrow loses its life force along with it." He frowned then. "You do know these are just…stories, right?"

Dean didn't answer and just stormed out of the room. Emily distracted that last question with flipping to the spirits of fire instead.

"I'm sorry about him, he's incredibly….myth-bustery. He thinks anything is real, can you imagine that?" she laughed snidely, letting the professor join in on the laughter.

"I'm glad there's children that are so interested in education. Where ever did you attend school?" she seemed to make the old guy happy.

Her heart skipped a beat. "I went to a smaller district in Pennsylvania, it's nothing special, trust me."

"Oh, alright. Make sure you catch up to him, I can't have you walking home now, child." He wandered to another bookshelf.

"No worries, he won't leave me behind. I won't venture out alone." She smiled, closing the book.

Thanking the professor, she skipped out of the establishment, almost forgetting that she was there on a job. She looked around for Dean.

"Okay, Dean! I'm done sucking up, I'm ready to go!" she looked around, getting a chill up her spine.

Her smile fell and faded away when she realized the Impala was the only car left in the parking lot, considering it was just full a few minutes ago. Luckily for her, the keys were still in the ignition.

"I guess I am venturing out alone." She sighed as she got into the driver's seat.

She turned the key and grabbed the steering wheel, being extremely careful with the car and backing up. She smirked and turned up the radio at full blast, rolled the windows down, and sped down the road. She knew exactly where she was going.

**Orchard**

The citizens of the town were gathered by the very old house in the orchard. The sheriff opened a type of basement door, leading to a hole with minimal amount of space. In his grasp was Dean, who now had a new bruise on his face from being knocked out cold. His hands were tied with rope and was looking around frantically for his sister. He felt like shouting at them, but as he tried, his hands were cut loose and he was tossed into the pit, the door closing above him. For kidnappers, they sure were polite about him being able to break his fall. There was a discussion going on as he was waking up. The townspeople knew he got away from the scarecrow twice, now they must be desperate. Suddenly the door was opened again, this is when he took the initiative to call out.

"Where's Emily?!" he screamed.

The wrong Emily was thrown into the hole next to him. He took this as some sort of irony. The door closed on them again, leaving Emily to cry out to plead with her aunt and uncle.

"Why are you doing this?!" she tried to pound on the door.

"It's no use, Emily. They aren't letting us out. We're gonna be sacrificed to the scarecrow out there." Dean explained.

"Scarecrow?! How will we be sacrificed to a _scarecrow?!_" she was panicking now.

"It isn't a normal scarecrow, it's a Pagan god. You know all the people that have passed through? Sacrificed to it. That's how you guys have your apples for your precious apple pie."

"What the-?!" she clearly had no idea this was going on.

"Anyway, we have to kill it. Is there a tree here? Besides the obvious, like a really really old tree." He asked, starting to bang on the door.

"Yea, there's the one directly across from it. There's a bunch of trash in front of it, you can't miss it." She was trying not to cry.

He let out a laugh. "This is the most ironic day of my life."

Emily recognized her aunt and uncle's voices above them. "We're ready for the sacrifice."

They opened the doors again, fishing Dean out first. They tied his hands up again and fished out their niece next. She was in hysterics as they tied her hands up. Snotting and crying all over, she continued to try and plead with them.

"I'm your niece! Why are you doing this to me, why?!" she was tied to the tree first.

"Dear, it's for the town…" her aunt replied as the uncle tied Dean to the tree next.

Her eyes were wide as all the townspeople fanned out, leaving the premises. Dean was trying to wriggle his hands free, but he wasn't having much luck. Emily sniffled and looked at him.

"Do you have a plan?" she asked, hopefully.

"Working on it." He saw her face lose any hope that was held in at the moment.

After wriggling a little more, he remained unsuccessful at getting out of the ropes. He also realized that he never found out where his sister was.

"When you were in the crowd, did you see my sister? The angry one from earlier?"

She shook her head no. He sighed and remembered he left the keys in the ignition of the Impala. He tried not to become more worried about his car than his sister. As time passed, Dean continued to answer "Working on it" whenever Emily asked about an escape plan. There was rustling of leaves in the distant trees. Dean's heart skipping a beat, he attempted once more to break free of the ropes. The rustling was getting closer, twigs were snapping. Emily began to panic again. Dean attempted to calm her down by talking.

"My sister, she really isn't all that angry or crazy. She's just a weird seventeen year old. She's got the will of an ox, but she's as stubborn as a mule. You panic a little more than she does, though." He saw her crack a smile. "But the thing is, if she's out there with the Impala, she'll fight. She'll do whatever it takes. I believe that she can do it."

The rustling was directly behind them, and they closed their eyes.

"Dean!" came a familiar voice behind him.

"Sam?!" he opened his eyes and turned his head so he could see behind him.

Sam scurried to the front of the tree, looking confused. He didn't bother to ask questions and just untied them from the tree.

"How did you get here? Why are you here?" he rubbed his red wrists.

"I had a feeling you needed me." He gave his brother a smile. "Now where's this scarecrow?"

Their faces fell. The scarecrow wasn't on its post anymore, it was gone. Emily started to panic again.

"Oh my god, oh my god, I'm going to die…" she covered her eyes.

Dean grabbed her arm as Sam led them in a dash to get out of the orchard. They were stopped by Emily's aunt and uncle, the sheriff, and the professor from the college. There was a sound of an engine in the distance, they must have been closer to the road than they thought. However, the hum of it got progressively louder.

"You can't leave." The aunt said.

The uncle chimed in, being loud over the noise. "Not without—''

"BEEP BEEP MOTHER FUCKERS!"

The uncle was cut off by the incredible honking of a 1967 Chevy Impala that was racing toward them at seventy miles per hour. The group of them jumped to the side, making a path for the crazy seventeen year old behind the wheel. She screeched to a halt, turning the car as she skidded to a halt. When the stench of burning rubber on grass dissipated, she left the vehicle with a gun in her hand, down at her side, with her other hand perched on her hip. Dean and Sam stood up along with the uncle and the professor. The others got up after them, and slower.

"What. The car. What have…" Dean didn't seem to absorb what she just did with his car.

Emily gave a cocky smile that spread across her face as she looked at the group in front of her, facing her people. She was upset by the professor being in the bad group.

"Aw man… I loved you, dude! You were so nice…" she pouted, but the smile soon returned.

The other Emily, eyes wide, looked to Dean for support. "_This_ is your non-crazy sister?"

"Oi. Don't throw the c word around. I'm savin' your life sweetie." She pointed the gun toward the aunt and uncle, who put their hands up.

Ignoring that they were at gunpoint, their niece approached them, arms out, eyes pleading. She wanted to change them.

"Please…stop this…you can change…!" she gave a weak smile.

Before they could respond, gloved hands grabbed them both by the heads. The niece ran forward to save them, but Emily had to grab her by the waist to avoid her being captured as well. The scarecrow and its victims vanished into the maze of trees, their screams being broken off with a sudden snap. Not tending to the girl, she looked to the sheriff and professor.

"It has its sacrifice. You can go home now." She stared them each in the eyes.

Sam approached her and carefully took the gun out of her hand. She didn't really seem to care. As the professor and sheriff ran away, Dean used this moment to initiate the comforting process of his Impala. He inspected it carefully while Emily stood up the other Emily, who was very shocked and pale faced.

"I'm sorry…" She whispered to her.

Sam gave them a hug, his sister hugging him back the longest.

"I missed you, Sam…" she mumbled into his coat.

The fire that burned in those frantic eyes had left her; bringing back the normal sibling he knew.

**Morning**

That morning, at the orchard, the trio was led to the tree for it to be burned. Using plenty of gasoline, Dean did the honors of setting the tree aflame. Afterwards, they met up with the Blonde Emily to see her off at the bus station. She still looked shocked, but she knew that she had to leave the town. Emily was last to see her off. She gave her a hug and a nod, which meant "Get out of here now, before I make you get your name changed". While the girls were administering goodbyes, Sam and Dean were standing by the Impala.

"It's good to have you back, Sam. Couldn'tve made it out of there if you hadn't showed up. Thanks." Dean patted his shoulder.

Sam gave him a smile and opened his arms when he saw his sister jogging back to them. She gave him a big hug, which was followed by a punch in the arm.

"Don't leave again, that was scary." She pouted, then smiled.

The bus had left, leaving the trio alone to their time as a family. They all entered the Impala in their usual seats, exchanging random looks and gestures through the mirrors. They said goodbye to the messed up town and drove off on their way to the open road.

**Impala**

The whole ride, Emily cupped the phone in her hands, staring at the screen. She seemed to be very uncomfortable. She had her earbuds in to try to relax, but she seemed nervous anyway. Dean could hear the music from where he was sitting, so he knew she wouldn't be able to hear them if they talked about her.

"Sam. We gotta talk about this." Dean became serious suddenly.

"What?" he looked at his brother.

"Emily's been getting some interesting texts and calls."

"Wait, from who? We don't have her number." Something clicked in his brain. "Is it from people in her past?"

"Most definitely. And she looks like that" he gestured to her pained expression, "every time she looks at her phone. This could be bad news."

Sam looked back at her, and to a surprise, she was looking right back at him, tears refusing to leave her eyes.

"Emily, what's wrong?"

Her voice was wrecked with emotion. "We have to go to Pennsylvania."


End file.
